The neverending quest for peace
by Fury Seven Kerrigan
Summary: Trust me, it gets more and more Malcolm as it goes on. As the title would suggest, the Enterprise probably isn't going to have much of a break in this one...
1. Chapter 1

OK, so I've re-written the first chapter because it seemed to me that it was half way between a script and a story, and it certainly wasn't meant to be a script! It is basically the same, but with extra bits to expand on it.

Disclaimer... we all know it...

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"All hands brace for impact!"

A violent shudder racked the ship, followed by another.

Smoke and sparks billowed out on to the bridge of the _Enterprise_ which the bridge officers did their best to ignore to continue in their duty.

Archer was holding on to the command chair for dear life, having been thrown from it when the unknown hostile aliens had made their first attack on _Enterprise_.

On the viewscreen, the alien ship appeared, with its' cannons shooting purple laser fire at the Earth ship. Its' sleek design giving it the look of the Vulcan starship _Dkyr_, but golden with glowing electrical blue seams throughout, and without the large circular ringed engine towards the rear.

"Hoshi!" Archer yelled

"I'm still not getting through to them sir- they won't respond on any channel!"

"Another shot coming sir!" Malcolm yelled from the other side of the bridge, whilst simultaneously working the controls to return fire, however little the cannons made an impact on the hostile ship.

"There is a hull breach on E Deck, but it is not substantial." T'Pol said, ducking as she did from the sparks shooting in her direction from the console behind her.

"Sir!" Travis shouted, "I can't outrun them at this rate- they're just that much more manoeuvrable than we are!"

"Keep trying Travis" Archer replied at the same time as doing his best to formulate a plan that would save _Enterprise_ and her crew. He was saved from having to do so when T'Pol addressed him.

"Captain!" she said, as Archer spun towards her. "They seem to be moving off!"

Archer frowned. "Why? Belay that- are we in any position to pursue?"

"I would suggest that we do not pursue them, as _Enterprise_ is in no condition to fight any more than we already have."

"I agree sir" Malcolm said from his station. "We should make our recovery as fast as possible, and analyse the strategies which they used, should we come across them again, so at least we can have some semblance of preparation."

Jon turned towards Hoshi. "Did you get anything at all?"

Hoshi turned towards him shaking her head regretfully. "No. They didn't make a single transmission, not to us, or to anywhere else, as far as I could tell. Of course," she shrugged, "the plus side of this is that there probably won't be any reinforcements coming any time soon."

Archer nodded towards her showing appreciation even though all he had were questions. He briefly glanced at all his officers to repeat the sentiment.

"Still, I'd like to make sure that we don't get a surprise like that again. I want all senior officers up here for an analysis of this attack within the hour. Make sure we have all the data in that time. T'Pol- you have the bridge. I'll be in Engineering."

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Archer arrived in Engineering and realised that, all things considered, he had seen Engineering in much worse a state than it was now. He sought out Trip barking orders to his staff to get things under control.

"How is it down here?" Jon asked as he looked Trip up and down assessing the stress level of his Chief Engineer as an indicator of how bad things were. Evidently, he had been correct in his first estimation, as Trip seemed to be fairly optimistic.

"Well Cap'n, I've seen worse, but I wouldn't want to try that again. What the hell happened?"

Archer studied the smoke-filled room that was Engineering as he replied. "We were attacked from behind by surprise. Not even T'Pol could figure what we might have done, and you know how she likes to inform me of my diplomatic mishaps."

"No kiddin'" Trip grinned, as they both silently recalled the Kreetassan episode from several years ago now and an eon ago, it seemed, in their travels when meeting new species was their mission, and accidental diplomatic upsets were the most of their worries. Rousing himself from the past, Jon brought Trip up to date on the latest occurrence.

"They just opened fire, not a word, nothing. Then as quickly as they began firing, they stopped and left."

"That's not very polite of them, is it now? Are you sure you did nothing?"

"Trip!" Jon glared at him "I did absolutely nothing, I can assure you! Are you taking lessons from T'Pol or something? Anyway, there's a senior staff meeting in an hour- I want all information you have by then." Nodding, Trip left to look at a PADD which had just been brought to him by Hess, and Jon took that as a polite moment to visit Sickbay to check on his crew who hadn't been so lucky.

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One hour later, the senior officers were surrounding the engineering console at the back of the bridge. T'Pol was speaking to the group:

"There is no mention of the ship designs in the Vulcan database, and I do not recall _Enterprise_ having come across this design before either."

"Their weapons were of a completely unknown design to us as well, and unfortunately much more powerful than ours, and we're the best in the fleet. I find it worrying that they seemed to know exactly where and how to hit us. They immediately went for our weapons and engines." Malcolm said at this point, glowering as he did so at the thought of anyone having the ability to do that.

Jon frowned for a moment, thinking about the implications of _Enterprise_ having yet another unknown enemy to add to the list. He looked up at his staff. "Is there any way that this could be related to the Suliban or the Xindi?"

"It is unlikely Captain" T'Pol answered. "We know the technology behind the Suliban and the Xindi. We have also made our peace with the Xindi. I doubt that they are looking for another reason to begin a war with Earth. The trajectory of the ship would indicate that it came from the Vulcan region of space. Although that is a hypothesis, as long-range scanners are off-line."

As she said this, the turbolift door opened and Trip came out, dirtier than he had been when Jon saw him in Engineering an hour earlier. He came and stood by Malcolm and looked pointedly at Jon.

"Tell me you have good news Trip?"

"I surely do Cap'n!" Trip answered with a flourish. "Warp engines are back online, as are long-range sensors." He looked towards T'Pol as he said this. "As for the breach, its sealed off. It won't take too long to repair though. She looks worse off than she is."

What Trip didn't say, and he intended to keep it that way, was that that the aliens had been far too close to breaching the warp core. _There is something to be said for optimism and hope after all, and knowing that such a hostile species could almost cripple us within a matter of minutes would not help with ship morale. They probably all know how lucky we are anyway._

"Alright people," Archer said, clapping his hands together and breaking Trip's reverie, "Lets get back to work. I want us back to normal again as soon as possible."

At this, the bridge crew dispersed to their respective stations. Just as Jon got to his chair though, Hoshi turned to him-

"Sir, I've got Admiral Gardner for you."

"I'll take it in my ready room, thanks Hoshi" he said as he turned towards the rear of the bridge.

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Once settled inside, he called up the image of the Admiral on the viewscreen at the desk and composed himself for breaking bad news to the Admiral.

"Good afternoon Admiral! I was intending on contacting you soon- we've just had an attack by an unknown species..."

He was cut off by the look from Admiral Gardner. "I'm afraid this isn't a social call Captain- there's some bad news. First- do you happen to recognise this design of starship?" He looked away as he pressed a series of commands, and a photographic still came on to the screen in front of Jon. He frowned as he looked at the ship in front of him. An elegant golden ship with electric blue seams over its' hull...

"Admiral? When did you get this? This is the same ship that attacked us not two hours ago."

Admiral Gardner looked grim as he heard. "We got this from the Ambassador Soval, this species attacked Vulcan a week ago. The same species attacked Alpha Centauri three days ago. According to our scans, it would seem that we are next."

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So what do people think? better? worse? should I do the same to the other two chapters before I carry on? Do tell!


	2. Chapter 2

Just a short 'filler' while I'm swamped with work for you all- hope its ok for now!

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While Captain Archer was in his ready room talking to Admiral Gardner, Hoshi and Travis gossiped about what they might be discussing.

"You know Hosh, you can always tap into their conversation...?" Travis prompted jokingly

Hoshi just rolled her eyes. _Typical Travis _she thought to herself. _I swear, men are by far much worse gossips than women are- and this one in particular! So nosy!_ Of course, she cherished Travis as a friend, and only thought this is good humour.

"Travis," she replied somewhat exasperated. "The number of times you've hinted that I could be listening in on the Captains conversations- you think you might have learned by now that I would never do such a thing like eavesdropping!" she laughed.

_Still, the Admiral didn't sound very amiable when he contacted. I really do hope there's nothing wrong, we've had our fair share of tragedy._ She snorted to herself at this _It would be just our luck though. Murphy's Law and all that._

She realised that her hardly lady-like snort had caught the attention of Travis, and she blushed.

He grinned at her discomfort, and then looked towards the turbolift doors as they opened to reveal their relief.

"Do you fancy getting lunch?" He asked her

"Definitely- I'm starving!"


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks to Begoogled for correcting some of my mistakes!

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After a long and arduous deliberation with Admiral Gardner, Archer stepped out of his ready room and on to the Bridge where the Alpha shift crew were waiting for him.

"Travis, set a course- take us back to Earth."

"Aye Sir"

He looked around at the expectant faces after information.

"I want to see everyone for a briefing in ten minutes. T'Pol, I want to see you for a minute."

The two of them left the Bridge. Once inside the ready room, Archer turned towards T'Pol who was standing in her usual 'at ease' pose, hands behind her back. He opened his mouth to say something, but quickly closed it again. He balled his fists and exhaled to try and relieve the tension he was feeling. He began again-

"Vulcan has been attacked. Knowledge of exactly what happened is sketchy, but from what the Vulcan Embassy on Earth is saying, there are not many survivors from the planet itself, although Vulcan ships have been arriving in Earth orbit full of refugees."

He paused to take in T'Pol's reaction. She was looking at him in that impassive way of hers. Only a very small swallow indicated that she was shocked.

"Are you okay?"

She turned away slightly, then looked back right at him.

"Do we know who...?"

"Not yet, although the Admiral says that whoever attacked Vulcan is the same species as whoever attacked us earlier."

He let the information sink in before uncurling his fists and motioning towards the door.

"We should carry on with everyone else in on this."

T'Pol made no move to leave.

"T'Pol?" She looked up suddenly, then nodded and left with Archer behind her.

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At the rear of the Bridge, the senior crew once again took their positions as Archer began to explain to them what he'd been told by Admiral Gardner.

"I know how much we all need a break especially after recent events, but I'm afraid our services are needed again.

We have to go back to Earth, as does every Earth and Vulcan ship. The reason being that a week ago Vulcan was attacked."

He glanced at T'Pol briefly before carrying on, telling his staff about Alpha Centauri and Admiral Gardners beliefs that Earth would be next. He stopped and almost enjoyed the pause that ensued before the expected barrage of questions began firing his way.

Malcolm spoke up first

"Captain, is these really are the same species that attacked us at the same time, then it would be safe to assume that it was planned in advance, and that it was not merely a coincidence."

"That would be a safe assumption." T'Pol interjected, having regained her composure. "But that is not all. If this species are able to attack two planets with a relatively brief interval, presumably accounting for travel, and attack _Enterprise_ simultaneously, then we are looking at a strategic plan on a grand scale."

Malcolm picked up the pace after T'Pol-

"They would have to have a large arsenal for that sort of attack, supplies, and some kind of invading force, maybe an army. I believe we can take it for granted that neither the Vulcans nor the Alpha Centaurians gave up without a fight, and so we must also assume that they can replenish and repair very swiftly, which would either account for the superior technology we have already seen, and/or they have a vast number of personnel. Neither outcome is very appealing."

Archer sighed inwardly. This was becoming complicated. Trip shook his head-

"Cap'n, more advanced technology or not, they gave us quite a poundin', but they still only managed to inflict repairable damage to us- they can't be that good if that's all they're going to hit us with."

"Commander," Malcolm glared at him. _Surely it is obvious? If you don't know you're enemy, then don't show all your cards at once._ "For all we know, they might have just wanted to delay us, make sure we couldn't get back to Earth as soon as they want us to. Pick us off one at a time rather than having a well-defended Earth ready for an armada."

"Hey Mal, I'm not the tactical officer here! It was just an idea!"

Archer decided it was time for him to take charge of the proceedings again.

"Hopefully we will get more information within the next forty-eight hours. There is a Vulcan ship on its' way here to debrief us as Starfleet can no longer presume that our transmissions safe. They're also bringing any engineering supplies that we might need to make repairs. At this point, it would seem that all previous Vulcan protocols are being revoked, and we are going to start sharing their technology." _Funny how it would take an attack on **their** world to make it happen. _He thought to himself a little cynically, but out of regard for T'Pol, he did not say out loud. Apparently, the other humans around him thought the same, as not even so much as a sarcastic remark came from Trip.

"Trip, when they get here, I want you to be prepared to have your Vulcan counterpart with you in Engineering to help on upgrades, same goes to you too Malcolm- and I this time round, I don't mind that they will get a look at critical systems." He interrupted Malcolm's beginning tirade, anticipating what would be said. "At this point, we don't have time on our side."


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks to my reviewers- Begoogled, volley, and Firewolf! Much appreciated.

I would like to hear from the silent masses though- are people enjoying this?

Just so you all know, I am inordinately busy, hence the slowness of my posts, so my apologies to all!

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Jonathan Archer stood at the docking port with T'Pol, waiting for the final seals to move into place so that the Vulcans could come aboard. He fidgeted slightly. The wait for actual details on what had happened to Vulcan, Alpha Centauri, and possibly Earth to come, was making him nervous with anticipation. It couldn't be denied- they were all in the dark about this aggressor, and the lack of control made Jon feel so helpless he almost couldn't stand it. _I wish to hell that we didn't have to be so patient- I just want to get back to Earth to help defend it as soon as possible._

His disquiet had obviously been enough to attract the attention of T'Pol, who merely looked his way.

"Sorry," he apologised, "I'm finding it hard to believe we're not at top warp to get to Earth, but have instead been told to wait for upgrades. I appreciate the Vulcans trying to help, but having _Columbia_ as the only capital ship defending Earth is not going to be enough if this fleet we're facing is as big as everyone thinks it is."

"Captain, if this fleet is as big as you have been told, then having _Enterprise_ there as well will not make a lot of difference."

Jon turned a frustrated look towards her.

"But at least we'd give them one helluva fight."

He was interrupted as the door behind him opened up, and three Vulcans stepped on to _Enterprise_'s threshold. He realised with surprise that the woman leading the three Vulcans on to _Enterprise_ was none other than V'Lar, who they had transported from Mazar a couple of years beforehand. She had a sad look in her eye as she almost smiled when she took Archer's proffered hand and greeted T'Pol in the traditional Vulcan way.

"Greetings Captain, thank you for your patience, but as I'm sure you can imagine, we wouldn't want you and your crew to be unprepared for your return trip."

Archer inclined his head so as not to accidentally make any comment about his _lack_ of patience. "Ambassador, are you hungry? We could wait to talk until you're ready, and the _Sh'Raan_'s crew start their work immediately" he offered, knowing how Vulcans did not like to eat and talk at the same time and also aware that she had had a fair journey to get to them.

"Actually Captain, unlike many of my people, I do not mind talking whilst eating," she said, almost reading his mind it seemed. Archer smiled at this and led her towards the Captain's Mess while leaving T'Pol to assign the _Sh'Raan_'s crew to their posts for upgrading the systems.

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Malcolm went through the Mess doors after an eight-hour solid stint in the armoury upgrading the systems with the Vulcans, several of whom were now in the Mess sitting in the corner away from the loud and boisterous humans. He found himself a bite of something filling and after searching out a place to sit, saw Trip in the middle of the room bent over a PADD and went over to join him. Trip looked up before he got there and kicked out a chair as an invitation before looking back at his work.

"Is it going well?" Malcolm asked. Trip pushed the PADD towards Malcolm and took a bite of the chilli con carne in front of him.

"You'd better believe it!" He said through a mouth of food. "I never thought we'd see the day we actually get our own deflector shield!"

Malcolm raised an eyebrow in almost disbelief and scrolled through the PADD for confirmation. He put it down again to eat. "It is funny how things turn out. Our weapons have been upgraded within an inch of their life. The only way we could have had a more rigorous upgrade was if we were to stop at Jupiter Station for a month." He gave a small wondering laugh.

"Have you heard what V'Lar told the Cap'n yet?" Trip asked him.

"No. All I know is that once T'Pol had sent a couple of people to the Armoury, she left to join him and V'Lar for discussions about the situation." He stopped to contemplate the situation, an attack on Earth being far too recent for both of their liking. They finished their meals in a companionable silence, one thinking about the past, the other thinking about the future. They both stood to leave at the same time when the intercom called for Malcolm to join Archer, T'Pol and V'Lar in the Captain's Ready Room. Trip looked at Malcolm as the message finished- "Guess they want you for tactics and stuff- think you could bear to leave the Armoury in the hands of Vulcans for a half hour?" he joked, grinning. Malcolm gave him an unamused glare, the look in his eyes giving away the laugh he was holding back, before they both departed the Mess.

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"Well Captain, undoubtedly you are anxious to know what has happened." V'Lar said as soon as they were seated in the Captain's Mess. She clasped her hands in her lap as she began to tell of what had occurred no so long before. Jon and T'Pol were silent to hear V'Lar's first-hand account.

"It began rather quickly. A fleet of ships appeared in Vulcan's system in the morning. One of our vessels orbiting Vulcan went to meet them to discover who they were and their intentions. They got within communications range, and the lead vessel immediately destroyed them without any hesitation at all. They then advanced on to Vulcan. It took them twenty seven standard minutes to do so, in which time, we made an emergency evacuation, as they had made it evidently clear what their intentions were. It is due to the efficiency of this evacuation that meant that so many of us and our ships were saved. The _Sh'Raan_ was just about to go to warp towards Earth when we saw several of the invading ships descend towards Vulcan's surface and the others arrange themselves in what appeared to be strategic positions. They instantly destroyed every single orbital platform and space station." She stopped to pause and look out of window at the stars outside, lost in her thoughts. Jon looked at T'Pol, who returned his look. She turned towards the Ambassador to quietly ask the obvious-

"How many were left on Vulcan?"

V'Lar looked at T'Pol sadly, all three of them in the room knowing that no matter how large the Vulcan ships were, no one could get an entire planet's worth of people on to them.

"The majority of the people. It was fortunate indeed that there are so many Vulcan people serving as ambassadors around the Alpha Quadrant- many people are needed to serve in each embassy, and each ship has its' crew and whoever was able to get to a ship in time, but it is logical to assume that that would be fewer than an 2000 Vulcans at best off the planet when those ships landed."

There were a few heartbeats of silence around the table as each thought about the ones left behind, many of them children and families.

V'Lar spoke first- "The question is, Captain, what to do next? From the ships that came to Earth safely from Alpha Centauri repeated a story similar to my own, and many people are already bartering travel with Boomer ships and transporters to get away from Earth before the same happens to them. If it does, of course." She added, although even Jon wasn't too optimistic about that one. By the sounds of this species, they were superior to anyone they had already met, and they knew it. He looked down, staring at nothing in particular while T'Pol quizzed V'Lar on the details of the invasion. _Yes- the question of what to do next_. _I'm no tactician, just apparently a diplomat. Who are these people and what do they want?_ The vulnerability of Earth, which had been emphasized by the Vulcans years before when they wanted to stop humans from exploring the unknown suddenly became clear to Jon, and for once, he saw the wisdom in it. _Then again, this is an aggressive species, and I could see them taking advantage of another species with a lack of warp technology like we could have been_. He looked up at the two Vulcans, having come to a decision. He reached up to the intercom and called for Malcolm to come and join them in his dining room. T'Pol looked at him, the raised eyebrow an indication of the accurate guess she had made about the reason the services of one Malcolm Reed might be required.

Less than a minute passed when the chime sounded and Malcolm joined them in the room, standing at attention.

"At ease Lieutenant" Archer said. "I called you here because of your contacts with people on Earth who might be able to help us." Malcolm gave him a confused look, but joined them at the table without raising a question, and he was briefed on the events of a week before.

He sat back once V'Lar had repeated herself and pursed his lips. "Captain, I have to wonder why you have me here, and not the other senior staff too."

Jon looked directly at him, and very deliberately, said "Malcolm, I believe it is time for your secret to not be so secret any more. Your past affiliations." He said, as clarification, rather than the secret involving water. "I know that it must be against some official secrets act, but with Earth in danger, I think it is time that we used Harris and his group for some good for once."

Malcolm looked at him, weighing the options in his head, but he had to admit that his Captain had a point. If Earth became overrun by these aliens, then there would no longer be a Section 31 anyway. He nodded. "I would need a secure terminal to contact him, although I would assume it to be likely that transmissions would be monitored, as Ensign Sato said. What's more, I think we can also assume that there were insiders helping these aliens- like I said, they knew too much about where our vital systems lay to have just scanned us and come up with it in the time that they had."

Jon nodded. "You can use the terminal in my Ready Room. Work with T'Pol on this. I don't need to tell either of you to keep this to yourselves, even with the other senior staff for now." He looked at V'Lar "What are you and the _Sh'Raan_ doing now?"

"While you are returning to Earth, we are going to travel around as many offworld Vulcan, Earth, and Alpha Centauri postings to let the people know of the events, and warn our allies. We will need to prepare ourselves for attack and discover if this happened to us exclusively, or if we were just the first in a path of destruction." She stood to leave, as did the other three. "If you would have someone escort me back to the _Sh'Raan_, we all have work to do, now that the upgrades are finished. Live long and prosper Captain, T'Pol, Leiutenant." She nodded her head slightly, and left with the crewman who had just entered at T'Pol's call. Jon turned to T'Pol and Malcolm.

"Get on it- let me know as soon as you have contacted Harris. Until then, I'll be on the Bridge, briefing the other senior officers."

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And yes, I would like to hear what you all think please.


	5. Chapter 5

Thankyou to my reviewers; peregrinfalcon, volley, EmeraldStargazer, and Firewolfe

This chapter has a vague reference to the _Enterprise_ novel _The Good That Men Do_, although probably taken totally out of context, so do forgive me. Any Trip fans out there should probably read it- the book, that is.

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Malcolm looked at the screen of the computer terminal in front of him while he waited for the man at the other end to appear. He and T'Pol had made as secure an encryption as they could do in the time they had and also considering they were unable to know for sure what interceptions the enemy could make. Malcolm knew what he was going to say, and he also knew that he could count on Harris' discretion, and so the threat of the alien invaders understanding absolutely what they were talking about would be kept to a minimum. The real problem was firstly, whether they could get through to Earth at all, and secondly, what Harris might have them do for him in return. It was the way of things, Malcolm knew- the system of reciprocation was the closest thing that intelligence services had to trust. Suddenly, Harris himself came on to the screen and gave a slight enigmatic smile which immediately put Malcolm more on edge than he already was. This was not his favourite person.

"Well Lieutenant, I am glad that you decided to make this call. You and the _Enterprise_ returning to Earth will be good timing. We have something for you to do."

Malcolm raised an eyebrow, sneering slightly at the audacity of this man who had caused the crew, and Malcolm in particular, so much trouble, and yet still demanded more and more of them. Malcolm expected it, but the crew were civilians, and he had no right to treat them as his own private puppet show, simply because Malcolm was on board. What was even more brazen, was that Harris was sitting at his desk on a planet which was, according to popular report, about to be invaded, and he still assumed he was in control of everything around him!

"Actually," and he stressed the first word, to remind Harris, that he had initiated conversation for a reason, not just to report in for duty as Harris seemed to think, "Captain Archer has decided to return to Earth to help defend it; he is quite anxious that we know what we are facing."

Harris gave Malcolm a smug and condescending smile as he sat back and folded his arms.

"Actually Lieutenant," repeating Malcolm's use of the word to indicate his annoying superiority over everything, knowing things that he knew Malcolm could not know, "When _Enterprise_ returns to Earth, it will be loaded up with refugees and will then proceed to a secure location where things will be set into motion. Obviously, we both know that I cannot tell you at this time what these things might be, nor where the location is, but Archer will find out." He leaned forwards towards the screen.. "Archer will see the wisdom of what we have planned when he gets here."

He instantly cut the transmission leaving Malcolm staring at the screen with the Starfleet logo on it. He pressed his lips together for a split-second and allowed himself the luxurious thought of what he would like to do to Harris were he not his superior and he were standing right here in the same room as him.

But only a split second.

He collected himself together and called for T'Pol and Captain Archer who had been standing outside. Malcolm had explained to him that it was best, for security reasons, and also that Harris was more likely to tell an alone Malcolm things he might not if there were other people in the room.

Archer strode into his Ready Room followed by T'Pol. Malcolm gave up his seat so that his Captain might sit in his own room.

"Report Lieutenant."

"Sir, he told me as much that _Enterprise_ would not be staying in Earth orbit to defend the planet. We will instead be collecting refugees and making our way to a location which he did not reveal for security reasons." He neglected to mention Harris' last comment, as he knew that it would only infuriate Archer. As it was, the Captain did not look best pleased with the outcome.

"Did he say anything about defending Earth at all?" he asked.

"No sir. He was very brief. He only mentioned what we would be doing in the immediate future and was very short even then." He stood waiting for Archer's response. It was quick in coming.

"Well thank you Lieutenant for doing that, but he didn't really answer our questions, did he?" Malcolm stood quietly, knowing that a response wasn't required.

"Okay then, you're dismissed. Get back to work." If it was possible, Malcolm stood even further at attention, and then left quietly, leaving the Captain and the Sub-Commander in discussion.

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"What do you make of that T'Pol?" Archer asked as soon as the door had slid shut behind Malcolm. He leaned back in his chair while T'Pol took the chair opposite him once he'd indicated for her to do so.

"Mr. Harris seems to have been anticipating our communication with him." She observed. "I believe we find ourselves in the position of having to trust an untrustworthy person. We do however, have very little choice in the matter. It is unlikely that Mr. Harris is acting alone, as a secret organisation can not manipulate an entire starship and the crew without the knowledge of Starfleet. For this reason, we can work with Mr. Harris on this issue, whatever it may be, as it could quite well be the orders of Starfleet as well. Until we have returned to Earth however, we will not find out exactly, and should not waste our efforts attempting to discover what our orders may be in the meantime."

Archer smiled at her and her idea of efficiency. "You put it very succinctly T'Pol. But humans still need to focus their efforts somewhere on the trip back to Earth, otherwise we'll go mad wondering what our fate might be."

T'Pol tilted her head. "If humans lose their sanity merely because of independent thought, then it is no wonder that they are so far behind Vulcan in technological advances."

Archer started, slapping his hands on the desk in front of him, about to give his independent thought on T'Pol's comment, until he realised that that had been a joke. He laughed instead.

"You're jokes are getting better T'Pol!"

"I do not know what you mean Captain. Vulcans do not 'joke'."

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On the Bridge viewscreen, a very familiar blue-white-green planet came on to the display surrounded by little starships that, from the _Enterprise_'s position from far off, seemed to be like a swarm of tsetse flies diving in and out of orbit. Travis guided _Enterprise_ effortlessly into Earth orbit, all the Bridge staff manning their stations behind and to the side of him. Realising that if an attack was imminent, this could well be the final time they saw Earth, Archer allowed his staff a moment to watch the beauty of their home in peace. He turned to Hoshi and nodded at her to contact Starfleet. While she did so, Archer activated the comm from his chair to call Trip who had been modifying cargo bays and any spare space they could find to make it accessible for the refugees that _Enterprise_ would be transporting.

"How is it looking Trip?" There was a pause, presumably while Trip found his way to the nearest comm unit.

"Well Cap'n, we've altered all the space we can- cargo bays have been organised more efficiently- I'd say we could at a push get thirty or so people in to each one, plus if every quarter has two people on the floor, we could probably get about 160 people there, plus Doctor Phlox has said he could fit ten people into sickbay. There will also be people on the floor of rarely-used corridors and in hydroponics. All in all, its going to get a bit tight around here, but I'd say we can take 250 people or so. Obviously no privacy, and we're going to be cramped like we were in the nacelle that time, but I think we'll manage, especially if its' going to save lives."

Archer mulled over the thought of an eighty-man ship taking three times the personnel it was supposed to and prayed that there would be no need for an emergency situation- that many people crowding each other would, in all likelihood, end in disaster. "Okay Trip, thanks for that. We've just entered Earth orbit, so make sure you're definitely all prepared- we'll probably start loading people up as soon as possible."

"Right you are Cap'n, Tucker out."

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Archer found himself an hour later in an office in San Francisco overlooking the Golden Gate Bridge and sitting in front of Admiral Gardner who was explaining the plan to him which Harris had only touched upon.

"So you see Captain, we are in a bit of a Catch-22. We need capital ships to hold off the invaders, but we are facing a superior force, and so our ships are more likely to be destroyed, therefore we have to make the tough choice of leaving Earth fairly undefended except for a few volunteers in favour of getting people off planet. But do you see what _Enterprise_ must do?"

Archer sat back in his chair and looked at the Admiral as he went over the details to be sure of them. "As I see it Admiral, there are 16 billion people or so on Earth, and practically all of them will be left here waiting for fate to come their way. _Enterprise_ will be taking diplomats and the majority of Earth's leaders and their families to Coridan Prime where as many of our allies and people who generally agree to turn up will be there to figure out what is going on with our visitors."

"That is exactly right Captain. Although I admit, you sound a bit peeved at the prospect."

"It's not the prospect that annoys me- its the fact that a load of politicians are going to have their asses saved, but billions of innocent people are left for who knows what?"

The Admiral stood up to pace his office space, gesticulating out of the window to the gloriously sunny day outside. "What would you have me do Captain? You said it yourself, there are 16 billion people out there- we can't save them all. We want the diplomats to go to Coridan so that we might get several more allies to come to our aid- after all, who knows what these aliens will stop at? They might end up all over the Quadrant."

Archer didn't say anything in reply to that- the emotion in the Admiral's voice was quite evident. Goodness knows, Archer himself had had to make some difficult choices concerning other peoples' fates since assuming his Captaincy, so he could understand the Admirals' position well enough.

"How many people will be able to leave Earth?" He asked eventually, causing the Admiral to turn from gazing out of the window at the sea of humanity beneath.

"We estimate that a couple of thousand people have bartered with the Boomers and other ships to get off Earth, plus the 250 each that you and the _Columbia_ will be taking. Any other ships- the Vulcans and the like- will be taking people based on a lottery system. It hardly seems fair that this is how humanity will be sorted, but then, its hardly fair when innocent people are attacked at all." Admiral Gardner seemed to deflate, giving a faint shrug at the hopelessness of it all. "I will be staying on Earth- Lady Luck might smile on us after all and the aliens might not come here, or if they do, they might be willing to negotiate." He smiled a wan smile. "You never know." He came round to Archer's side of the desk and held out his hand, which Archer took. "Best of luck Captain- Godspeed- and should the worst happen, it is up to you to find a way to save humanity again."

"Good luck Admiral," was all he managed to say, and left the office as the Admiral returned to the window and to his private thoughts.

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It had only taken half a day to fill _Enterprise_ with people, stock up with extra supplies for them, and be off again. It was like a bomb had hit, it was so chaotic, but everyone new on board had been very thankful to the _Enterprise_ crew that they were on board. Archer regretted not being able to allow his crew a chance to see their families again, but they didn't have time, except for Crewman Paterson who had an aunt in the diplomatic corp. They were on their way to Coridan Prime to rendezvous with anyone who would come, and anyone whom V'Lar had talked into coming to meet and work out the next step in finding out who these people were and what they wanted.

The Bridge was silent as _Enterprise_ sped away from Earth, which vanished from the Viewscreen as they jumped to Warp, heading for Coridan Prime with a view to save home.


	6. Chapter 6

The reviewing thanks for last chapter go out to volley, Begoogled and firebirdgirl!

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Malcolm sat at his desk in the Armoury, as his small office was one of the last private spaces left on the Enterprise, and contemplated the PADD before him. The Captain had asked him to look at the battle (or lack of) tactics of the invading force. It occurred to Malcolm that of what he had seen showed him that the invaders had a tendency to use an overwhelming task force to intimidate, rather than using any tactics, per se. He couldn't say whether they didn't use tactics because they didn't have to, or if it was because they just didn't think that way. It unnerved Malcolm to be up against an unknown enemy who was so confident of its abilities, that it didn't feel it necessary to use an obvious strategy. Because of this, he felt it absolutely imperative that he analyse everything he had been given on the invaders down to the most minuscule of actions. He tossed the PADD aside in disgust as he finished his fifth analysis and still hadn't found anything of use. He got up and left his office and the Armoury to find T'Pol who was in the Command Centre. She turned as the door opened and he walked in. She could have sensed that he was not pleased without the furrowed brow. "Lieutenant."

"Commander. I have done a thorough analysis of the data we have been given, and I have failed to find any tactical ability whatsoever. Of course, that does not necessarily mean that they have none. Instead, they have a tendency to demonstrate a massive force. This could be a tactic on its' own to confuse and lead us into false assumptions about their abilities."

T'Pol nodded in agreement of his brief assessment of the situation and turned towards the screen before her. She felt the Lieutenant move to stand beside her to also view the data she had.

"I have been reviewing the tactics also, and it has also come to my attention that these invaders are used to having the upper hand. Whatever we may think about their abilities, they are very confident. This in itself means that we can gain the upper hand- we can use their confidence against them."

She pointed to a screen that Malcolm had not yet looked at which had a list of species and their ambassadors on it. "This is a compilation of the beings who will be at Coridan Prime to discuss the threat situation. The Captain would like us to have an idea of who these people are and what their goals are by the time we arrive."

Malcolm nodded, "Aye Commander."

"We will be arriving in 6 standard hours. I suggest you also refresh yourself before leaving for the planet, as the Captain plans to have you there with him, and will need you alert."

Malcolm's mouth twitched at the last comment- he was always ready and alert, but he didn't say anything. Instead, as T'Pol had returned to the screen before them, he left to negotiate his way around the heavily occupied _Enterprise_ towards the Armoury to check that there would be freshly checked phase pistols for the away mission to Coridan, and then to the galley for some lunch.

Refugees really had been packed in like a can of sardines. The Mess had all of the chairs pushed right to the walls, and the tables had been stacked in the corners. During the night, there were mats, rolls, and sleeping bags all over the floor and people slept in rows, tightly packed in. Eating arrangements were haphazard- chef would arrange meals at certain times so that crew and visitors both wouldn't just turn up and have to do an ungainly ballet to avoid stepping on anyone. The serving hatch was free from any blockage by the chairs and tables, but once people had collected their food, they had to eat on their laps in the chairs surrounding the room, or in the Captains Mess if they got there with space to spare- Captain Archer had opened up his personal Mess so that people could at least use a table sometimes. But most of _Enterprise_'s crew had taken to eating in their quarters- everyone was sharing on this journey, so it was just as social as sitting in the Mess. Malcolm found it bitterly ironic that they were carrying diplomats and politicians. He had always been told that politicians, ambassadors, and diplomats existed to serve the people, and yet here they were, being rescued from Earth, and the people they were supposedly serving were being left behind. He was very glad that he was a tactical man from a military background, not a political one. He took a mushroom risotto from the hatch and sat near the door to eat. Looking around, he marvelled at how a disaster could really bring people together- there were delegates from Alpha Centauri looking out of the windows and milling around, some in deep discussion with a crew member from hydroponics. Listening closer, Malcolm tried not to smile when he realised they were talking about soap operas. To his left, Vulcan delegates had congregated, and were eating chefs best attempts at Vulcan food, many cross legged upon the floor. If Malcolm hadn't seen them do that for himself, he would have had a hard time imagining it- Vulcans just didn't seem the type to give the floor a second look. It was like asking the Queen to sit on the floor. Just Not Done.

Malcolm had sat by the door so that he could get out quickly should there be an emergency, and so that he could see anyone coming in before they saw him, but he didn't need that advantage to tell him that Commander Tucker was on his way- his accent and vocal volume preceded him wherever he went. Sure enough, he strode through the door a second later, with a Vulcan and an Alpha Centaurian. Apparently, when the Captain had asked Tucker to be more diplomatic, the Commander had taken it to heart. Malcolm almost laughed at the image of Trip perhaps one day in ambassadorial robes and couldn't really see it happening- the Captain yes, but not Trip. Still with the image in his mind, he left to catch a rest while his quarters were unmanned- his guests, he'd noticed, were in the Mess, and one of them was a snorer.

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Six hours later, the senior staff were manning their stations on the Bridge as Coridan Prime came into view. _Enterprise_'s guests were going to be ferried off, and on to the planet- Coridan's government had set up some refugee barracks for the people leaving Earth, Vulcan, and Alpha Centauri, and then the majority of them were going to be a part of a creation of an emergency allied force to combat the invaders.

As Travis set _Enterprise_ in an orbit around the faintly green planet, Archer turned towards Hoshi.

"Hail the Coridanite Chancellor, Hoshi, and alert our guests that we have arrived and that they are to be ready for departure within fifteen minutes."

She nodded, and her eyes glazed over slightly as she listened for confirmation of her request from the planet below. She smiled to herself and a more focused look came to her as she looked at Archer. "I have the Chancellor, Captain."

"On screen."

Barely a second registered between the order and the action, and the grizzled face of the Chancellor came on to the screen. "Good day Chancellor, I am Captain Archer from Earth. I am told you are expecting us."

"Greetings Captain, indeed we are and the people you carry too. Their quarters are ready. As time is essential, we are giving you an hour to shuttle everybody to their appropriate place, although we will help with this- as we speak, there are five shuttles ready to dock with you to assist." Archer looked towards Hoshi for confirmation of this, and she nodded in return, having already told the guests that they should be forming orderly queues at the docking ports. Archer returned his face to the screen as the Chancellor continued, "after they are stationed, everyone must arrive at the Planet Forum to begin the conference. I trust that we will meet in face there. Until then."

The screen returned to its image of the planet from orbit.

"Is everyone ready Hoshi?"

"Yes Captain."

"In that case, get yourself ready too- you're coming, as are you Malcolm, and you T'Pol," as he started for the turbolift with the others following close behind.

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It had taken just under the hour to replace the diplomats from _Enterprise_ to Coridan, but it had been a job well done, and now Commander Tucker was in charge of the ship while Archer and T'Pol were both away.

The four of them approached the Planet Forum. It was a large sandy-coloured amphitheatre type building, not overly ornate, but it obviously served its' job. It looked like a large court on the inside with a single semi-circular speaker's podium in the centre, positioned so that everyone around could see. Beside it was a smaller podium, like a small round end-table with a black tube protruding from the centre.

There were delegates from all the major planets that were friendly enough with the sol system and the surrounding area to turn up and at least listen to what had to be said. _V'Lar has obviously turned up trumps_, Jon thought to himself. The chamber was large and round so that the more 'vocal' species would not kick up as much of a fuss as they would should they be misplaced in another shaped room, like a rectangle- everyone would be seated in an equal proportion to everyone else. Finding the section marked out for Terran usage, and flanked by Ensign Sato, Archer proceeded towards it while looking around. Lieutenant Reed and Commander T'Pol moved to sit at the front of the Terran delegation area so that they might contribute with the proceedings. The Andorians were placed to the left of the Earth delegate, quite far from the Vulcans, as they still didn't absolutely trust them; there were Denobulans to the right of the Earth spot, and Archer didn't doubt that most of them were probably related in some way to each other through some complex and brain-hurting way; the Vulcans were to the right of the Denobulans, and there were also Alpha Centuarians, even Orions, Rigelians, and Tellarites. Closest to the podium sat the ambassadors who were going to be speaking at this conference, with their aides and translators behind them. Behind those were the other diplomats and politicians who may be required throughout. Anyone else, like the two _Enterprise_ officers, were right at the back.

The noise of so many people being confined in one room, no matter how large, was enough to deafen anyone, so Archer was more than a little relieved when after several minutes, the Coridanite Chancellor approached the podium and called for order. It took a minute, but eventually, order did reign, and a hushed expectation descended upon the chamber. The Chancellor began to speak, looking at each species in turn.

"Greetings all. On behalf of everyone present, I thank you all for coming here so quickly and on such short notice, but as I'm sure you are all aware by now, we face a terrible threat of invasion by a species which has shown that it does not mind killing without provocation and at random. Alpha Centauri and Vulcan have already been invaded, with unknown consequences for their citizens left there. I now resign the floor so that Ambassador V'Lar may speak."

The stately Vulcan rose and gracefully made her way towards the podium. When there, she raised her head and spoke in a way that made it appear that she was speaking to each individual personally. "Each of you has heard from me and from several reports the happenings of the recent past. At present, it is unclear what the intentions of these beings are, but they are clearly intending to cause us damage. It is also unclear as to whether they will continue invading planets which they come to, or whether they intend to stop at Vulcan and Alpha Centauri. At this moment of time, we must assume that they intend to cause disruption to all species present, and to all planets in their way. If we plan for this eventuality, then we cannot be surprised again. However, to do this, I believe that is essential that we work together- put aside the differences that we have and fight against the common enemy that threatens to subjugate us all."

She touched the top of the smaller podium beside her, and a holographic 3-dimensional image formed above the protruding black tube of the space around Vulcan, with the smaller images, as if in perspective, or Earth and Alpha Centauri. Once she was convinced that everyone present had recognised the area of space being shown, she touched the podium again, and several red dots appeared around the planets. "These red dots indicate each vessel of the invading force. The larger vessels are in orbit, and they are half a mile in length, and a quarter of a mile in width, the same in depth, with a capacity of approximately 800 crew and a warp capability of 8.7. These are the capital ships, although there are several transports, also with the same warp ability, but a lot smaller, with a crew capacity of approximately 300 each. These transports can land on the planet, while the capital ships stay in orbit. There are also what appear to be single- and dual-being ships, which could possibly fighter ships, or scout ships. It is uncertain. You will note how on the two planets which they have already taken over, there is much activity coming and going from the planets. We believe that it is more likely that it is the invaders which are being shuttled to the planets, rather than the citizens being taken to the capital ships. The invaders seem to want to take each planet with little destruction so that they might occupy it themselves. Yet even knowing this, we still do not have any indication as to what might happening to the citizens of Vulcan and Alpha Centauri. We do not even know if they are alive or dead."

She paused here to assess the reactions of the people watching her. The humans seemed to be uncomfortable. _And well they might be, _she thought,_ they could be next;_ Her own people, she could tell were upset- it took a Vulcan to see it, but it was definitely there. They were used to being the mediators, not the victims; The Denobulan section looked worried, but V'Lar was sure of their support; The Andorians, Orions, Tellarites, and Rigelians were of tougher natures, and their delegations were a mix of outrage, scepticism, and morbid fascination at the details. Having taken this in, V'Lar spoke up again,

"I now call Lieutenant Reed of the Terran Starship _Enterprise_ to explain the tactical details." She bowed her head briefly towards him, and stepped down as Malcolm stepped up, cleared his throat, and immediately launched into his assessment.

"Further to what Ambassador V'Lar has already mentioned, the capital ships as shown seem to have very little to do with the invasion of the planet." He turned to the small podium and indicated Vulcan. "It is unknown as to who these people might be. They do not have the same technology as the Romulans, but it is well known that the Romulans wish to prevent human expansion into space. They could be using technology that we have not yet come across to sow panic and confuse. I personally believe that this is unlikely, and that it is more probable that this is an unknown enemy.

At the beginning of the invasion, the capital ships are holding back, while the transport ships use their fire power to make the point. These smaller ships which may or may not be fighters do not even appear on the scene at this point. It is therefore Commander T'Pol's and my belief that these are more likely to be predominantly scout ships, as their intelligence network seems to be quite extensive and because of their lack of inclusion in an operation of such vastness. However, the sheer size of the vessels, and the quantity, we believe, are being used in such a way that would intimidate a smaller force, especially since they shoot without asking questions." Malcolm stopped as an Andorian near the back of the chamber stood abruptly to his feet and shouted loud enough for most people to hear,

"Andorians don't get intimidated!"

Several shushes shamed him into sitting again, although not without a look that suggested mutiny and a flexing of his antennae.

Malcolm raised an eyebrow towards the Andorian, but carried on as if he hadn't been interrupted. If he'd been stalled already on a point, then he was not looking forward to the next part.

"Further to what I said about an extensive intelligence network, I would like to show some interesting movements on the part of the invaders." He touched the podium until the initial stage of the invasion of Vulcan was over, and the ships had begun positioning and lowering towards the surface. "Here," he pointed towards the capital ships, "these major ships are strategically aligning themselves over the major points of the planet- space ports, cities, and military bases." He touched the podium so that Alpha Centauri was the larger of the images, and showed the same thing happening there. "It took a while to see it, but this would indicate that these invaders obviously knew exactly where they would meet resistance, should there be any, which in these cases, there weren't." Malcolm grimaced inwardly. 'A while' could hardly describe it, but on their way to Coridan, after his guests had returned to his quarters and begun snoring again, Malcolm had decided to analyse the PADD with the invasion data on it one more time. The thought had suddenly occurred to him that it was very convenient that they had positioned themselves exactly. Too convenient, in fact. He had missed it before. He was very glad that he had been alone at the time- he had found it very embarrassing to have missed it, and Trip would have loved to crow about it! "Therefore, as much as the thought is unpleasant, Commander T'Pol and I had to conclude that the invaders had inside information, and therefore, whether they are still on their planets, or whether they are in our midst, we are quite likely to have traitors within our populations."

If there had been murmurs of dissent at the beginning of this, then there was positively uproar at this last. In the chaos that ensued, Malcolm took his leave of the podium, and the Coridanite Chancellor stood to call for order.

"There will be silence in the chamber!" The noise died down, but not completely, and an Orion stood from the middle of their section. "The chair recognises the Senator from Orion."

The senator did not move from his spot, but instead projected his voice so that the majority of the hall could hear.

"If these people merely want to occupy, then they might not want anything more than the two planets they already have! Maybe they were overpopulated and wish for more space, even if they do take it in an unsettling fashion! What sort of commander would stretch his forces when he does not have to?" Several murmurs of assent sounded from the Orions around him, with some of them nodding their heads in agreement. "Furthermore, there is nothing to say that we as a species would be in danger. It is sounding like only those allied to humans are in danger, as reports say that Earth is next in line to be invaded, and we are certainly no allies- it seems to be a bad idea!" He sat down again, and a Denobulan from the front stood. The Chancellor called for her to speak.

"The Denobulans are not allied with anyone at this point, but we do have friendly ties with many planets, including Earth, and we have not been attacked in any way. Obviously, it could be a future occurrence, but if such a large force were going to attack a friendly planet, surely the commander of such a force could not anticipate that allied help would or would not come? And if he couldn't anticipate it, then would he not simultaneously attack? It is a possibility," she said, as she looked around. Archer felt somewhat confused at what she meant exactly by that, but there was some scoffing from the Orion faction, and the Orion senator stood again, at the same time as an Andorian captain did.

"The Orions see no reason why-"

"The Imperial Guard would never-"

Immediately, the Chancellor called for order, but went unheeded, and the conference fell into turmoil. What was clear in the confusion was that the Orion senators had almost as one, stood up and left, but not before one had called out "The Orion delegation has no interest in an alliance of this type- it is far more dangerous for us to be allied when we might be attacked for it. We are, and intend to continue being neutral!"

Seeming to agree with the opinion stated by the Orions, the Rigelians also left, having not contributed much to the debate. The Tellarites stayed, as did the Andorians, out of the two other uncertain species, even though they both seemed to be slightly impatient. The Chancellor managed to return the chamber to order after some minutes, and once again, opened the floor up for discussion. The Andorian who had stood before stood again.

"The Imperial Guard would never run from any sort of danger. We realise that it is possible that friends of pinkskins or Vulcans may be targeted, but we are not cowards, and the further possibility of this expanding to affect all of us is imaginable. And while we maintain that there are no traitors within our government, we will agree to form a coalition to safeguard our home world."

Archer smiled, naturally, the two planets already attacked, and humans were already into the idea for a coalition, but having it expanded to include a species with such a military mindset would be a huge asset. From where he was, he could see the profile of a different Denobulan ambassador as he stood.

"The Denobulans agree to the coalition, with the condition that we are not required to go to war. We will, however allow any of our citizens who wish to help to do so, especially people of medical backgrounds."

The Tellarite ambassador also stood to offer his support of the coalition.

The Chancellor looked almost relieved that the rest of the conference had gone without as much furore as before, and asked for quiet once again. "Thank you for your cooperation.. For the sake of time, you may all return to your abodes and ships and we will discuss tactics in private with the captains and leaders. I'm sure you will all appreciate the need for secrecy if Lieutenant Reed's fears are met. Until we meet again."

The Chancellor left the podium, and those left in the chamber took that as a sign that they could leave, which they did. As they were on their way out, Malcolm leaned forward towards Archer and whispered, "I should have mentioned that I thought the traitors were within the governments already taken over. Might have prevented a few upsets."

"Never mind Malcolm, we didn't expect much from them anyway," meaning the Orions and the Rigelians.

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They returned to their respective ships, as each species had a ship in orbit, having transported their delegates to Coridan Prime for the conference, although the Orin and Rigelian ships had already left. Archer sat back in his chair in the privacy of his Ready Room, and savoured Enterprise without the bustle of the many guests. The ships in orbit around Coridan had gathered above the capital to discuss tactics, which Archer was waiting for now.

The screen in front of him flickered on, and a split-screen vision of the Coridanite Chancellor, the Andorian Imperial Guard Captain, the Denobulan Ambassador, V'Lar, the Alpha Centauri Senator, and the Tellarite Ambassador came up.

Archer spoke up first, having already formulated a plan with Malcolm and T'Pol,

"First things first, we need some intelligence about this species and what they're doing with our planets. Lieutenant Reed, my chief tactical officer has volunteered to take a cloaked ship and land it on one of the affected planets to gather intelligence, and will report back to me. We are counting on the Andorians to back us up militarily, whilst the Denobulans give medical support, as offered. Until Lieutenant Reed reutrns, we need to fake ignorance. He assures me that he will not be many days. Then we will know how to act."

The Tellarite Ambassador frowned at this, "Are you willing to risk your officer in this venture?"

Archer most certainly was not willing to risk his people, but he also realised the need for information, and Malcolm was the best shot at getting it. "He is trained in this sort of subterfuge. He will be fine."

As he said this, a shadow in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to see a new ship outside his window. Apparently, the other Ambassadors had seen it too, for they all turned from the screens to see what was going on. The Comm. Panel beside Archer beeped, and he automatically pressed it in answer. T'Pol's voice came through to him,

"Captain, there is a Romulan Warbird uncloaking and on a planetary heading."

Archer watched, horrified, as the Warbird almost in slow motion descended towards Coridan, and crashed into it, the engine exploding and igniting the dilithium that was a natural feature of the planet, the fires of which spread out like fireballs in all directions. The portion of screen which had the Chancellor's face on it suddenly erupted in snowstorm. The shock that Archer was feeling was mirrored on the other ambassadors faces.

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What do you think?


	7. Chapter 7

Sorry everyone, I've been moving house and everything is a bit up in the air. I'm using someone else's computer, but mine is still packed away, so updating may be even more rubbish than usual- I hope you will all forgive me please!

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Archer stared at the screen for a split-second before he regained control of his thoughts and sprang into action. He reached towards the Comm. Unit-

"T'Pol, what the hell is going on? Are there any more of them out there?"

Her voice came back immediately, "We are not detecting any more ships within our range Captain, other than the members of the conference. However, we should note that no-one seemed to see the Warbird before it made its' descent."

Archer let out a frustrated growl and looked towards the flames still licking the planet dry. "Can you detect any survivors on the planet?"

"There are survivors Captain, but compared with the planetary population, they are minimal in number. We will begin rescue operations immediately." She signed off.

Archer turned back to his viewscreen, eyes flickering to the scene outside of his window before doing so, and faced the other Ambassadors.

"It would seem that against all of our expectations, the Romulans are somehow involved, whether the attacks on our planets are due to them, or whether this species and the Romulans have joined forces, or some other reason entirely, it would appear that we now have a war on two fronts."

The Denobulan Ambassador spoke up offering support and help to rescue the beings on the planet below.

"Will you still be sending your Lieutenant on his intelligence mission Captain?" V'Lar asked.

Archer nodded confidently. "Yes I will be- we need information now more than ever. I will be sending him out immediately. The _Enterprise_ will be staying here for now to offer our assistance. Archer out."

He took one last look out of the window at the chaos beneath- his Ready Room seemed so quiet and almost surreal as he looked on at the death and destruction of an entire planet. _All those lives lost. We don't even know what we are fighting for_. He fought to turn his eyes away and to leave the room. As he entered the Bridge, all eyes turned towards him. He carried on towards the turbo lift, calling

"Malcolm, Hoshi, you're with me," as he did so. As Malcolm and Hoshi left their stations, replacements efficiently took their places. "Crewman Stanley," Archer directed at Hoshi's replacement," contact Earth with details of the events of the Conference and its' aftermath."

The three of them entered the lift together in silence and left together in silence as it arrived at its' level. They entered the shuttle bay where Trip was waiting next to the old Suliban cell ship with a PADD in his hand, taking readings.

"Is it ready?" Archer asked him.

"As ready as she'll ever be," Trip replied, "considering what little we know of cloaking technology." He looked at Malcolm. "Try not to get into any fights with her; we won't be able to mend her nearly as well as Phlox can with you!"

"Trust me Commander, I do not intend on getting into any fights at all."

Hoshi stepped forwards, holding out a small device- a jury-rigged communicator with an extra set of antennae, but small enough to still hide inside a pocket.

"You can communicate with us long-range using this. The antennae are so that we can pick you up, but its' only a prototype that I've been working on, so don't expect a brilliant signal when you use it."

Archer stepped forwards and clapped a hand on Malcolm's shoulder, not removing it even when Malcolm seemed to brace himself. "Have you decided which planet you are going to monitor yet?"

"Yes Captain- I thought Vulcan might be the best choice, then with what I communicate to you, Commander T'Pol can analyse with personal knowledge."

"That sounds like a plan. I'm sure T'Pol will agree on its' logic as well. Let's hope-"

But he was cut short with a beep from the Comm unit and a hail.

"Stanley to Captain Archer."

Archer went over to the panel and acknowledged. "What is it Crewman?"

"Captain, I tried to contact Earth, but there was no reply. I tried using various frequencies and modulating the output, as well as routing the system through various beacons and trying to contact more than one Earth satellite, but to all intents and purposes, it is like there is no one there. Earth space, from our point of view, is absolutely silent."

Archer looked around at the three people behind him- each wore the same expression. They all knew what this was a precursor to- they had all seen the battle analyses of the invasions of Vulcan and Alpha Centauri. The silence of Earth meant that the invasion was about to start- the satellites had been destroyed- and with _Enterprise_ in the position it was, there was no way that they could get back in time to protect home. He turned back to the panel,

"Thankyou Crewman," he said with a forced calm, "Archer out."

He returned to stand with the others and faced Malcolm. "Are you ready to go? The sooner we get information on these people, the better."

He looked at his people. Malcolm had a look of utter determination on his face in the face of the task ahead of him. Hoshi's face was set, jaw clenched, trying her best not to let the shock and pain cross her features, and Trip's eyes had narrowed. Archer was sure that the aftermath of the last alien attack on Earth was suddenly fresh in his mind again. Then Malcolm spoke up.

"Actually sir, with this in mind, if I were to go to Earth instead of Vulcan, then I could move around outside without arousing suspicion. I could find out plans far more intimately than I would sitting inside the cell ship."

"No way Mal- not in a million years," Trip exclaimed, "you'd be handing yourself in on a silver platter- practically asking for yourself to be caught!"

"Commander, if I were the attacking force on a planet, even if I had years' worth of intelligence, I still wouldn't know every detail of the planet. I would need personal intelligence, which only locals could offer. I could offer myself to do just that- be a double agent, as it were. _If_ I got caught, of course." He added with a smug look.

Neither Trip nor Archer looked convinced, but to say otherwise would have been to insult Malcolm's abilities. Instead, as committed as Malcolm was to his amended plan, Archer reached forward and took his hand in a gesture of support.

"Good luck Mal," Trip said, slapping him on the back, "You sure as hell are going to need it!"

"Thankyou Commander, Captain. Ensign," he smiled reassuringly at her which she returned by throwing her arms around him. She squeezed him quickly and let go equally fast, blushing furiously. His smile changed to one almost of nervousness, which Trip had to work at to not laugh- Malcolm was so professional when it came to his 'duty', but the affairs of the opposite sex, he was quite gawky.

Malcolm turned towards the cell ship, picking up his kit bag as he did, along with spare rations, surveillance equipment, and a change of clothes more innocuous-looking than anything he had on Enterprise, even though he was no longer wearing his uniform, but a pair of jeans and a t-shirt which would have been more comfortable for his previous mission of surveillance from inside the cell ship.

He got inside, and turned once to look at them with his hand on the door.

"I'll be back before you know it, complete with what we need, and I still have this," he held up Hoshi's device, "we can still be in contact, though I will keep it to a minimum- can't have anyone picking up our signals." He gave a final farewell nod to them, and shut the door.

Without a word, Archer, Trip, and Hoshi left the shuttle bay to return to the Bridge. Once there, Archer ordered the opening of the shuttle bay doors, and they all watched as the cell ship made its' way out of the bay, cleared the ship, and made the warp jump towards Earth.

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Does anyone have anything in particular that they would like to see on Malcolm's mission to Earth?


	8. Chapter 8

Thank you to my faithful reviewers once again! And once again, I have to apologise for my naf updating- I have been holidaying in the south of France- it is absolutely stunning there. I have also just been awarded my degree which I have slaved over for the last few years! Yay!

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Just outside of Earth orbit, a small ship dropped out of warp, unseen by those around it. Malcolm looked out of said ship to his home planet below and was, just for a moment, captivated by what he saw.

Surrounding Earth as far as he could see, were vast alien ships in the sleek gold and blue design which he was now as acquainted with as he could be under the circumstances. The 800-capacity 'mother ships' as they had become to be known as for ease, were, Malcolm noted, spread out over the side of the planet which he could see- most of North America, the Pacific, and much of Asia.

Looking closer, he saw that the ships were over major areas of importance- Washington D.C., and New York, the tip of southern Florida, and the area formerly known as Area 51 in Nevada which was still used as a military research base, the research still being secret, but as everyone knew of its' existence by the end of the twentieth century, the government figured that they may as well not spend the billions trying to keep the actual base a secret any more. There were also ships surrounding the space above Tokyo, Beijing, and Pyongyang.

From his vantage point, Malcolm could recognise much of the area which seemed to be in immediate danger if the 'mother ships' ever decided to shoot from space.

The smaller ships which had been deemed as 'transports' slowly rose and descended between Earth and the 'mother ships', apparently transporting between the two. Malcolm looked at these with trepidation and frustration at the lack of knowledge that they had- those transports could be full of humans to use as hostages on the mother ships so that any retaliation would endanger human life.

On his journey to Earth, he had made his mind up that when he arrived at the planet, he would stay in the cell ship to gather information from a city area so he could see what was happening to the people. An area full of humans like a city would be more likely to provide answers on that front. When he had learned what he could, he would move to another place in the country so that he could leave the cell ship and explore or carry out his plans with less chance of being discovered and/or captured straight away.

While he had been watching the ships above Earth, his ship had been in motion, and as he looked, he saw that beneath him now was the city of Chennai. He had been on a mission once with Section 31 in the bowels of that city, so he took the opportunity to use his knowledge of the back streets to implement the first part of his plan.

Slowly, he descended towards the middle of the city.

There were flat roofs everywhere, but he had to pick one that wasn't well used- he knew that several families lived on the roofs in small dwellings and shacks whilst the main portions of the building were used as the family business or something. Often, the roof was all they could afford.

He found one in a part of the city he had known well on his previous mission there known as Ayanavaram. The entire building was an office, only an old man and his wife had lived there before, and only on the ground floor, so the roof was a safe place to watch from.

Malcolm landed softly and powered down the engines and all systems except the life support and the sensors and the screen which he was watching the outside world on. Everything seemed to be very quiet. The sun was just rising.

As he watched, a man on a bicycle rode fairly leisurely down the road, blowing on a whistle- the equivalent of a neighbourhood watch. A couple of women walked with buckets to the water pump which was to the right of the office the cell ship had landed on. Malcolm watched them as well as the women met at the pump and smiled at each other as they lowered their buckets to get water their families would need for breakfast.

While they were there, more women came, and this small part of the city came alive. It was almost as if they had no idea that Earth had just been invaded, but then, as Malcolm reminded himself, Chennai was enormous. If the invasion had only recently started, then it was going to take sometime for the aliens to get to every part of it.

Malcolm settled in as he figured that this was going to be a long mission. He was suddenly glad that Trip often thought of his stomach, as while Trip had been getting the ship ready to 'set sail' as he proudly told Malcolm, Trip had also managed to stuff rations in every available space. He wasn't about to go hungry.

He sent a quick message off to Hoshi with her long-range communication equipment and watched.

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On the third day of watching over Ayanavaram, Malcolm was woken up as usual by the neighbourhood watch man on his bicycle blowing his whistle. Malcolm shifted about inside the cell ship which had become something of a torture- getting comfortable was no longer an option, having been curled up in pretty much the same position for several days now. He reached forwards for a half-eaten ration bar at his feet when he heard the crash of the bicycle and a scream from a woman and her daughter as they collected water.

Malcolm was instantly alert as he concentrated on the screen in front of him. From just around the corner where the bicycle man had gone, what seemed like troops appeared. Malcolm guessed that now, the invaders had come to central Chennai.

Malcolm took note of what the aliens were like so that he could accurately tell Hoshi later. They were tall, about two metres tall, with long legs that looked double jointed, and long arms, ditto. They were also slim, athletic looking. They wore what looked like biomechanical suits, engineered for them, like the aliens in the movie _Independence Day_, only without all the tentacles. The suits were greyish blue, like the skin of a person who had drowned, and there were tubes going in and out of the suits, swirling all around and pumping, almost like external veins. The suits had no visible face, just what looked like skin pulled taut over a slightly lumpy area but without the specific lump where a human nose would be. They were like something out of one of Trip's more scary Japanese horror movies which Captain Archer didn't see fit to show at movie night.

In a beautiful, mathematical formation, the aliens came, rows peeling off to barge into houses and break down doors to drag the people out on to the street. On the roof of the building next to where Malcolm was, the family was dragged from their roof. They reappeared on the road below. One of the young boys tripped as he was being pulled by the tall alien, but wasn't given the chance to stand up again. He screamed as the rocks on the dusty road grazed into his skin.

The screaming became widespread as the children were separated from their parents, and the adults were separated into male and female groups. Couples were ripped from each other's arms as they clung to each other, begging the aliens not to take the other away. Babies and toddlers were left in the streets, as the aliens seemed not to care about them, nor for the fact that their mothers reaching out for them. One woman was being dragged across the road as she was physically taken from her child, her fingernails bloody, raking the floor, trying to get back.

Once separated, the three groups were herded on to different ground transporters and taken away. The screaming died away quickly, but not the noise. Many of the aliens who had not accompanied the humans stayed and ransacked the buildings, checking that no one was left behind. But there were none- they had come too fast for anyone to realise what was happening and react.

Malcolm was astounded. It was like something straight from the ransacking of the ghettoes in the Nazi era against the Jews. He felt more than slightly guilty at the realisation that he could do nothing for the wailing babies in the street. He set his jaw and took on a steely gaze as he decided that it was about time that he went on to the next stage of the plan before they came to check his rooftop- find a quiet place, and join his fellow humans.

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Is this a bit heavy, or are people enjoying the style?


	9. Chapter 9

All hail my reviewers! Thanks to Begoogled once again for pointing out things I haven't made clear, and my specific apologies go to volley for not getting this chapter out on Monday like I promised.

Here is some long-in-the-waiting action for our beloved Malcolm- one promise I can keep!

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Malcolm wrote off a quick note on a PADD to leave in the cell ship, should he not return, and shut down all but the low-power beacon transmitting directly to _Enterprise_. He took Hoshi's transmitter with him- it was only a one-way device, so he could only contact _Enterprise_, and not vice versa, but they could still locate him should the need arise.

_It's probably just as well I'm leaving the ship_, he mused,_ if I see one more ration bar, I might feel the urge to kill Trip when I get back for packing so many. _He had nothing but the clothes he was wearing and the comm. device hidden in his pocket as he trekked towards a forest which would come out overlooking a sleepy English village.

He had left India in favour of his home country simply so that he would blend in to the crowd that much better, and because he knew his old home better than anywhere else on Earth.

If he remembered correctly, just inside the forest, village side, there was an old abandoned wood shed which ornithologists had used once, where he would camp out while he watched the activity below.

He found it easily after about a 40-minute walk. It was even more run-down than when he had last seen it, almost completely covered by ivy and stinging nettles. Inside, it was dank and musty, with the old roof providing no shelter- only the ivy was doing that, and there were mushrooms growing in the corner, along with those little stalks of red berries that grew abundantly around there.

Malcolm luxuriated in the ability to stretch out, something he had not been able to do for quite a while now, and massaged the pins and needles out of his legs which the days of cramped space, followed by the trek had created.

He doubted that he would be found in the little shack, so he took the opportunity to sleep. He would make his move when it got dark.

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He was awoken later by the sound of an owl out on the hunt, and it was quite dark. Malcolm sat up and blinked a couple of times, but quickly remembered what he was doing. _Time to save the world_, he grinned for a moment as he left the shack. He ghost-walked his way to the entrance of the forest overlooking the village and then shimmied forwards slowly on his front as he got to a clear field.

Not only was this village somewhere he knew well from his childhood, but, if you could call it luck, it was also a place where there seemed to be humans around, albeit, only men. A work camp, Malcolm guessed, as there were several patrols of the same tall athletic aliens in groups of two wandering around the village, each carrying a large staff. _Bugger, they don't seem to have a set route. That makes this harder, can't guess their pathways so well_.

As he tried to figure any route that the aliens were taking, he saw an alien escorting a limping man from the village hotel to a house and then leaving him there once he was through the door. The alien returned to the hotel.

Malcolm saw this as his chance to ask some questions from the people who had experienced the invasion, and shimmied forwards again across the field. The grass was wild and long with the odd thistle, which left Malcolm distinctly unimpressed, but it wasn't very high either, so he didn't risk getting up.

He got to the village and, noticing a patrol coming his way, he duck-rolled over a privet hedge into the back garden of the house which the human man had been taken to.

He lay on his back as close to the hedge as he could squeeze himself, looked to the left through the leaves to see two pairs of legs stopping just next to where he lay.

He held his breath, but the pounding of his heart was deafening to his ears. As he lay still, his heart slowed, but the adrenaline was still coursing through him getting his body prepared and ready should he need to run, possibly for his life.

Malcolm looked up and could just see the arm of one of the aliens jutting out over the hedge. If they were suspicious at a noise that he had made, they weren't showing it- they were absolutely silent. Malcolm remembered that they had no obvious way of communicating, maybe it was extra-sensory. In any case, all they needed to do to see him was to look around. Dark clothes couldn't hide him this close up.

The alien did look around, but luckily for Malcolm, it looked up at the stars where it was possible to see the many ships in orbit. It turned back to its' partner, and they strolled on.

Malcolm was quite red in the face by now, but he didn't allow himself the luxury of a new breath until he was sure that they were out of earshot, _or whatever_- he hadn't actually seen any ears on them.

There was a barely perceptible tap on the ground floor window of the house in which garden he lay. He rolled over and strained his neck to look at the window which was dark inside, but Malcolm could still make out the ghostly pale face of a man behind. The window opened and with a quick glance over the hedge, Malcolm sprinted over to it and climbed into the house.

He tumbled in as neatly as he could, and an arm reached down to help him up. "Who are you? Did Beckerman send you?"

Malcolm rested against the wall, hands on knees as he regained the last of his breath from holding it earlier. The man next to him leaned around the window a final time and closed the window gently.

From his position, Malcolm looked up at the man and shook his head in response to the question.

"No. Who is Beckerman?"

It was a young man standing next to him, mid-twenties. He looked closely at Malcolm, as if to convince him that he was actually human. To Malcolm's eyes, the young man was unsure about whether to tell him anything about this Beckerman. It seemed the young man had said too much, judging by his face.

Malcolm stood up and faced the man before him. "I'm Malcolm Reed of Starfleet. I've come to find out what I can so that we can mount a well-informed counter-attack against the invaders."

The man looked unconvinced, but held out his hand to shake Malcolm's.

"I'm Bryson. Are you hungry? We have some food and water here, but you must be quiet. Follow me."

He led the way into the living room of the house where seven men and adolescent boys sat around the man Malcolm had seen limping by escort before. They looked up as the two of them entered.

"Taking in strays now, are we? You know they'll have a fit if they find someone new- we'll all be for it." Malcolm turned to the voice, a scowling man in his forties leaning by the window in the darkest corner of the room.

"I'm from Starfleet, we're trying to help, but we have no idea what is going on. I need-"

The man snorted. "Starfleet? Since when did they give a damn? Oh wait, I know, since they got taken over themselves. Now they need our help. By the way, you're not going to get very far if they sent you- our watch saw you coming from the forest. Real stealthy."

"Bugger orf Al," said the limping man with something of a West-country accent who was now sitting, "just coz they took you in the middle o' the night 'fore you'd finished your beauty sleep don't mean you can take it out on every Tom, Dick, an' Harry who comes our way. We're stuffed as it is, so let's just 'elp the bloke."

Malcolm had frowned as Al was speaking, "What do you mean you saw me coming?"

The limping man responded. "Young Bryson 'ere keeps an eye out from the windows upstairs- gives us good surround-vision, as it were."

"Why should you need an eye out? Has it something to do with Beckerman?"

The room hushed for a minute, until Al sauntered forward to glare at Malcolm face to face, their noses barely an inch apart. "I don't like his questions. He's a spy for the Aurigans."

"Aurigans? Is that what they're called?"

Al came closer still, menacing. "Don't play coy with me, you'll only regret it."

"Al get back." The limping man stood up and laid a hand on Al's shoulder. "Let's hear what he has to say first. I guess we should in'roduce ourselves anyway. Can' 'urt." He shrugged, though the effort obviously pained him. "I'm Old Jack, mah son is Young Jack, but 'e's being held in another house. They like splittin' families up. Destroys morale and all tha'. Bryson you've met, an' Al." Old Jack raised a fluffy eyebrow in Al's direction. He briefly pointed out the others in the room, not being specific, just pointing in a vague direction at the group around the chair Old Jack had been sitting in. "Them thar is Rhodri, James, NotBob, Alan, Matthew, an' Carey."

Malcolm blinked. "NotBob?"

A teenage boy nearest to Malcolm and Old Jack looked down at his feet and murmured "From school days. A joke I got stuck with."

Old Jack pointed to a chair and Malcolm took it as an invitation and sat while Bryson came into the room with a glass of water and some bread, "It's all we have 'til the rations get handed out again."

Malcolm took them gladly and looked at Old Jack who had resumed his seat.

"What is going on here?" He asked.

Old Jack looked over to Al's corner where he had retreated and was ignoring them. He looked back at Malcolm. "I reckon an exchange of information would be fair- show some good will on your part. Who are you zactly?"

Malcolm swallowed some water and looked at Old Jack over the rim of the glass as he did. He put it down carefully on the table next to him. "My name is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed of Starfleet. I serve on board the Starship _Enterprise._ I'm English from a naval family. Now, who are these people and what are they doing in this village?"

Old Jack shifted in his seat to get more comfortable. "These aliens are Aurigans, or at least, that's where we figure- they're not particularly forthcomin' with info you know. Their interrogation methods mean that we can sometimes see inside their minds, only what they wan' us to I'm sure. James 'as a doct'rate in stellar cartography and recognised some o' the stars they were showing us- 'round the Auriga cons'lation 'parently, on the edge o' the Milky Way. As for this village, we work for them. Do whatever menial stuff they want. Metalwork stuff, for those who can. Younger lads mostly, though some 'ave to slave for 'em Aurigans. Old lads like me get to sort out parts that the young lot weld together an' stuff. Can't be more specific- building stuff is all we know, just no' sure what. Anyone who ain't useful dies. Simple as 'at. One lad slipped with a welder and burnt 'is 'ole arm so badly they just shot 'im where 'e stood." Old Jack seemed to say this with no inflection in his voice whatsoever, but his eyes had strayed away from Malcolm's stare as he said it, and no-one else was looking at either of them either. Old Jack raised his eyes again to Malcolm. "What's happening ou' thar?" He waved vaguely out of the window.

Malcolm related what had happened to other planets so far and what he had seen in Chennai. He finished his dialogue and asked his return question. "Where are the women and children?"

Old Jack answered slowly. "So far as we know, the women are in other camps- men and women are very sep'rate 'cept for when they want- the Aurigans, that is. They want women to breed a workforce for them. The children between 'bout five-ish and fourteen get taken to something like a nursery where they seem to be brainwashed to be like a subservient army for the Aurigans." He spat into the fireplace which was near him, as if he had tasted something particularly foul and disgusting.

"From what I've 'eard, they've done the same thing on Vulcan and Alpha Centauri. Soon's they discovered how women 'ad a much higher tol'rance for pain than men 'ad, they started trainin' them for army duty too. They know tons 'bout us," he added mutinously. "Suddenly all those crackpot alien abductions during the twentieth and twenty-first cent'ries don't sound so stupid now." Old Jack paused and then, as if an idea had occurred to him, he suddenly leaned forwards. "'ow do we know you're not a spy?"

Malcolm finished the bread that Bryson had given him. "I can contact my ship. They can't reply, our communications officer made it specifically that way so that its' power output would be increased."

"Convenient," murmured Al to himself.

"They can also locate my position, should they need to come and get me."

"Can they get us too?" Old Jack asked.

"It is doable," Malcolm said slowly, "though I imagine you would need to be transported as they wouldn't have time to bring a shuttle down to get to us, as they would probably be under attack. They are by Coridan Prime now helping with a disaster there. Speaking of which, how do these Aurigans and the Romulans tie in together?"

Old Jack looked at him like he'd sprung antlers. "Romulans? Wha' the 'ell 'ave Romulans got to do with the price o' fish???"

Equally confused by Old Jack's turn of phrase, Malcolm merely answered the question instead. "They were the ones who assassinated the Chancellor of Coridan and set the entire planet ablaze. Millions are dead. We were there having a conference about these Aurigans, so we thought that they were connected somehow."

Old Jack sat back, looking surprised. "Well I've no idea lad. Firs' we 'eard o' Romulans an' Aurigans being joined a' the 'ip."

"Jack!" Came a hissed side whisper from Al. "Checks!"

Malcolm jumped up silently. Bryson came forwards, grabbed his wrist and led him upstairs, turned right and into a small bedroom, where he took out a couple of the planks of wood from the wall panelling by the window, which had a built-in seat, and was therefore wide enough to fit a small man like Malcolm into the recess. He put the wood panels back in front of Malcolm once he was inside and went back downstairs, closing the door as he did so.

It was pitch black, and Malcolm could hear nothing until a pounding on the front door downstairs and it being opened reassured him that he would be able to tell when they had gone.

He could hear Old Jack sounding quite put out that the house was being checked apparently for the second time that night. The Aurigans didn't answer, and their silence was far more intimidating than any noise they could have made, but went through every room in the house. They came upstairs to the room which Malcolm was hidden in. One of them barged in, opened the chest and the wardrobe and looked under the two small beds and went back out again.

It took all of five minutes, but it was about thirty minutes later when Bryson came to get Malcolm from his hiding place again.

"You're very well prepared here for people needing a place to hide."

Bryson said nothing, just led him back to the living room again.

Al turned to Malcolm as he walked in. They never normally do a second check. Can't be arsed. They know you're here. Can sense you, or whatever it is they do. You should get lost so we can stay safe."

Even though Malcolm took offence at Al's attitude, he knew he was right. His presence was a danger to them. Their 'methods of interrogation', as Old Jack had mentioned before, sounded not altogether pleasant.

"You're right, but before I go- just who is this Beckerman?"

Old Jack stood before Al could get a word in. "How do you know about Beckerman?"

"I don't- Bryson asked me when he let me in through the window if Beckerman had sent me."

Old Jack looked at Bryson, who nodded miserably, embarrassed at his mistake of letting information go so easily. Old Jack looked relieved. This time, Al did get a chance-

"What, you think we actually surrendered without a fight? You must be a bloody idiot. We fought, though they easily overpowered us. Shot a few to show who was boss. It didn't stop us, we just went underground. Beckerman is the leader of the underground resistance, while Old Jack here is the leader of our cell. Each place- town, village, city, or whatever- has its' own cell. Beckerman escaped capture in the first place, and he runs a resistance intelligence programme of a kind. Gets people food and information about their families in separate camps and co-ordinates trouble making." Al sounded fiercely proud and at the same time seemed to have a need for Malcolm to understand that they didn't just give up, that they didn't just allow this to happen to them. Old Jack carried on, "Beckerman was 'ere jus' a couple o' days ago, but 'e almost got caught leavin' our 'ouse. 'e did get out, but they dragged a couple of us in to ask questions- it's 'ow I got my limp 'ere." He gestured to his left leg. He didn't expand on how he got the limp, so Malcolm assumed it was all a part of the 'methods of interrogation'.

"How do I find Beckerman?"

Old Jack cracked a grin. "You don' find Beckerman. 'e finds you. Stay on the edge o' the forest and keep a look-out. When 'e left so quickly, 'e said that 'e'd send someone so we know 'e was alrigh'. S'why young Bryson 'ere thought you was from Beckerman. When you see someone come, 'e can take you to Beckerman. Now, it's prob'ly 'bout time you left, no 'fence."

"None taken." Malcolm smiled, and reached forward to take Old Jack's hand. He nodded towards the others and spared Al a glance before leaving to go through the window he had entered the house in.


	10. Chapter 10

Malcolm jumped out of the window and gave Bryson behind him a quick smile before the young man closed the window and disappeared. Malcolm crouched low and hurried to the hedge around the garden again. He couldn't hear anything, but he had realised by now that that didn't mean much- these Aurigans were deathly silent. He looked over the hedge and, figuring it was safe, he jumped over and crouched briefly, before running low over the first twenty metres or so of the field. He then fell on to his stomach and shimmied his way forwards, inch by thistley-painful inch. He was close to the edge of the forest when he realised that he could hear a pounding behind him. He looked over his shoulder and saw two Aurigans bearing on his position, with two more behind them.

He had obviously been seen, so Malcolm jumped up, no longer bothering at stealth, and ran full pelt into the forest. He had excellent training and was at the peak of physical fitness, but the Aurigans' extra long legs meant that they caught up with him easily.

As he realised that he couldn't outrun them, Malcolm tried evasion tactics instead. He used the thickening trees to dodge and zigzag his way forwards. He thought about returning to the shack to hide, but as he threw a look over his shoulder, he knew that he could never be out of the Aurigan's sight for long enough to do that.

He glanced back again quickly to gauge the distance between him and the Aurigans, hoping he could get back to the cell ship in time, when he tripped on a hidden root and fell, tumbling down a steep bank into a dell below, and landed heavily on his front so that all the air in his lungs was expelled noisily.

He pushed himself up immediately, ignoring the scratches he had on his arms and face from the brambles he'd just landed in, and ploughed on. Two of the Aurigans had followed his route down the bank, with the exception of having a more graceful way of going about it, and the other two leaped from tree to tree in unbelievable lengths and heights to get ahead of Malcolm and to cut him off.

They succeeded.

Malcolm had abandoned his jacket as it got caught on the spiny thorns clutching at him from all angles. He knew there were two behind him, but as he saw the other two coming from in front of him, he knew he was caught.

One of them from behind caught his ankle with its' staff before he knew what was happening, and he was once again on his front in the slimy mud. A foot pressed into his back, and his hands were brought around behind him and secured tightly, the wires cutting into his wrists enough to draw little beads of scarlet.

Fingers grabbed his hair and roughly snapped his head back, enough for Malcolm to feel a sharp click as his spine adjusted. A lumpy face was an inch away from his. No change seemed to occur on the face, but it just tilted slightly, as if confused by Malcolm's expression- his teeth were bared and lips in a grimace as he braced himself against the pain of his neck being pushed too far back and the straps, combined with the foot still pressing hard into him enough to bruise. The face looked away, and up at its' compatriots. For a second, all pressure, bar that of the wires in his wrist, was gone. Then, a hand grabbed his left upper arm, and swung Malcolm on to the shoulder of one Aurigan.

As it did, all Malcolm could think of was how stupid he'd been not to bring a phase pistol with him. _Captain Archer is having a bad effect on me, evidently. Time was, I'd have died before going anywhere without one._ He had a knife in his boot, but that was not really an option against four assailants whilst running at the same time.

As he thought this, he almost missed the swing of a staff as it came at him suddenly from the periphery of his vision and made his thoughts quieten and everything very black.

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As he came to, the first thing that was obvious was the crippling pain in his neck- he'd been at an angle for who knew how long. A secondary pain that he felt was a dull throb through his right temple, following through to his ear. The skin there felt taut. He guessed that there was dried blood there from when the staff had hit him into oblivion earlier.

Whenever earlier was.

He shook his head and blinked his eyes open wearily.

The second thing he realised, was that he was tied to a chair, wires securing his wrists awkwardly behind and also around his chest, ankles, and just above his knees. Each wire dug into his skin enough to mark and sting.

He stretched his neck side to side to ease the cramped muscles there while looking around. He was all alone for now. The closest he could guess was that he was in a cold storage room- it certainly was cold, his breath was coming out in misty clouds before him. At the edge of his vision, just behind him, there were the frozen carcasses ready to be cooked for human consumption, hanging from hooks from the ceiling. Enough to feed several people. Probably in the hotel. When he watched Old Jack being taken to the house, it had seemed like the village hotel was some kind of temporary base.

A door immediately behind him opened up, but no other noise could be heard. It clicked shut.

An Aurigan came around in front of Malcolm and for a moment, it just stood there watching him silently. Malcolm stared back at it, challenging, but also silent. He did silent and watching well. It was part and parcel of his job after all.

The Aurigan seemed to consider something, and looked over Malcolm's head. Malcolm suddenly realised that there was more than one in the room with him, but they were so quiet, he couldn't tell exactly how many. One brought a small hover-table around in front of Malcolm. On it were various organic-looking objects, none of which he recognised, but he could still have a fair guess at what they were for.

The Aurigan in front of him picked up an object that looked a bit like a miniature octopus with only five tentacles. Malcolm's head was yanked back and tilted to the side slightly as the octopus instrument was brought up to his left temple and placed there with a squishing sound- it felt like one would expect a jelly-like marine creature to feel like.

The Aurigan let Malcolm go and stood back, standing at attention, but looking right at him. There was a decidedly weird sensation at his temple as the octopus suddenly seemed to come alive- there was definite movement coming from the area. A feeling of pins and needles started to emanate from it and spread throughout the left side of his face. Right at his temple was where the sensation was at its' worst, and then came an incredible sharp shot of pain from there. Malcolm involuntarily threw his head back and screamed with every limb in spasm at the agony he had never experienced before. True, his training with S31 had meant that he had been through some rigorous Resistance to Interrogation training which included being at the receiving end of some torture, good old SAS style, but this pain was something else entirely. At least in training, you knew that despite what it might look like, you would never be killed or have any long-term damage at the end of it.

The pain hadn't lessened at all, but through it all, Malcolm had become aware that there was a whisper inside his head, one that was ever so slightly evading his consciousness- he could feel it, but understanding it was something else, and it was seeming to be telling him something.

Almost as soon as he realised this, the agony subsided, and became a pulsing pain instead of the all-consuming fire it had been before, and the whisper became clearer.

Instinctively, Malcolm 'reached' for it in his mind and words came into focus, as if coalescing from the fogginess that were his thoughts.

"What were you doing here?"

Malcolm peered around, confused. He hadn't seen anyone speak, and the pain still had him in a muddle. "What?"

The Aurigan in front of him squatted down to look Malcolm in the face. "What were you doing here?"

It still took him a second to realise it, but he did eventually figure that it was the Aurigan 'speaking' to him by telepathic means, most likely using the octopus. _T'Pol would love this technology- I'm sure it would intrigue her immensely_, was the only thought he could muster.

"Who is T'Pol?"

_Bugger_.

The last thought was Malcolm's reaction to the appearance that his conscious thoughts at least were no longer his own- the Aurigan could hear him. He wondered if it would work both ways. He 'reached' forward and his brain was instantly on fire again.

The Aurigan seemed unbothered by the fact, though he must have known what Malcolm felt.

The fire stopped again, leaving Malcolm slumped as far as the tight wires would allow him to.

"You cannot evade our questioning. We can destroy your mind if you resist. Answer our questions and we will return you to the village for rest with the rest of your species. Who are you?"

Malcolm had never had this kind of interrogation before. The fact that the Aurigans seemed to be able to hear his conscious thoughts meant that he was almost completely defenceless. Malcolm did the first thing he could think of and began, in his mind, to sing his way through every naval song he had ever come across. His father would have been proud at the selection and variety, although many were somewhat of the bluer sort.

During the first bar or so of his first song, the Aurigan seemed a bit taken aback, and more of the pain jolted through Malcolm mercilessly, but he carried on as soon as he was able to, gritting his teeth even though he was beginning to get white spots in his vision. The Aurigan carried on its' same questions, but got nothing out of Malcolm.

'Rule Britannia' began in Malcolm's mind, and the Aurigan in front of him suddenly, with the graceful quality of a wild cat, spun and hit Malcolm just under his right jaw line, knocking him to the floor with such force that Malcolm was stunned for several silent moments. He hadn't been knocked unconscious, but that changed when he was picked up, set the right way up, and the octopus was removed from his temple.

The loss of the whisper, while welcome, was almost like a bereavement. His brain suddenly had the silence of the grave in the shock, and Malcolm felt something actually physically removing itself from inside his skull, slippery, and leaking down the side of his face. His head fell forwards as the octopus was removed and he vaguely noticed the relentless dripping of blood on to his shirt. The octopus passed his peripheral vision as it was put back on to the hover cart, several of the tentacles covered in blood and writhing.

The edges of his vision turned grey, then black as the Aurigans left the room, leaving him where was and switched the lights off.

The room became deathly dark, and then so did Malcolm's brain as he dropped away from wakefulness.


	11. Chapter 11

Thank you to volley and firebirdgirl for their fantastic reviews- I wouldn't have that many if it were not for you two!

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In the various stages of waking up again after he'd been tortured repeatedly, several things had occurred to Malcolm. He'd remembered what Old Jack and James had said about using the interrogation methods to their own ends, finding out where the Aurigans were from. He had tried during the first phase of his interrogation to 'push' his way into the mind of the alien in front of him, but hadn't succeeded. He did manage subsequently to get a little further each time as he got used to the pain of the octopus inside his head. It took all of his strength to do it now, and he could feel his resolve weakening with each attack that was made on him.

He had, however, managed to find out their purpose for their attacks, and the sheer enormity of it all left him astounded and horrified. He'd always rather liked the movie _Independence Day_, but it wasn't so funny to look at it now that it actually was happening to Earth. The Aurigans literally travelled around space in colonies, Malcolm didn't know how many, but definitely more than the one colony-fleet that had attacked this part of space. They took all the resources that were available on the planet, and killed the people that had no real use to them, and took the children of the planets they invaded to be brainwashed soldiers- better than using their own people, saved their population.

The adults of the planets were used to harvest the resources, and were then either killed, or left on what was left of a ransacked and waste-ridden planet to die, whichever was the most efficient.

They used the octopus on Malcolm almost solely for communication purposes now, and had reverted to old fashioned techniques of water torture and bamboo points under the fingernails to retrieve information from him. They had got some way through his defences, but he had still only given up his name and birthplace. The water torture techniques were particularly traumatic, seeing as they took him to the point of drowning before letting him come back up for air. He had passed out a couple of times before they had brought him back up, and other times, he was left to choke up the water and deal with the panic that his phobia of drowning left him in.

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Night fell in the village once again. It was a cloudy night, hard for anyone to see the slight movement of shadow that worked its way through the darkness, over a hedge, and into a house via its' window.

Bryson closed the window behind the shadow as it stood up to reveal a tall, dark, broad-shouldered man.

"'Evening Bryson. How's things?"

Bryson smiled at the newcomer. "Fine thank you Mr. Beckerman. Are you well?"

"Fine, fine. Couple of aliens invaded my planet, but you know how it is, these things are sent to try us." He grinned at the young man, and made his own way into the main room of the house where Old Jack and Al were sitting in the dark. Bryson stayed where he had been by the window in the hallway.

"Alrigh' Beckerman, 'ow do?" Old Jack raised a glass in salute.

"Same old, same old," replied Beckerman. Al stayed silent, simply looking out of the window, but without the moody demeanour that Malcolm had seen him wear.

Beckerman dragged a chair next to Old Jacks', and sat down heavily in it while pulling off the small rucksack he wore. He undid it and brought out some letters.

"Thought these might interest you. I 'acquired' them from the women's camp up the road. Courtesy of Louise and Co. And a couple more from around here."

Old Jack flipped through the names which were written on the letters so as to see who they were meant for. Beckerman taking and bringing words from loved ones in neighbouring camps really did help to keep the morale of the people up. He noticed one from his son and stuffed it into the pocket of his ripped and hastily mended shirt. He focused on Beckerman who was now exchanging cursory pleasantries with Al.

"'ow do you fancy doing a spot of rescuing?" He ventured.

Beckerman turned back to Old Jack with a quizzical look.

"Young man was 'ere t'other day, Starfleet bloke. 'e's gone and got 'imself caught in that thar 'otel." He threw a thumb over his shoulder to indicate the window behind him and the view of the hotel beyond. "Said that 'e could get word out to 'is starship what's now somewhere in the back o' beyond. But then, 'elp far off is better 'an no 'elp at all."

Beckerman relaxed further into his seat and considered. "I can't see the Aurigans taking a single starship seriously, but if they could rally some kind of support, we could make a stand against them. He better be the real McCoy though- I'm not going to risk the lives of good men to get out a single man who may be 'aving a laugh."

Al coughed. Old Jack sighed as he shifted slightly. He didn't need to even look at Al to know that he'd been thinking the same thing of that young Starfleet lad. But hang it all, Old Jack rather liked young Reed. He gave the impression of being sincere.

"I trust 'im Beckerman, I don' think we 'ave anything to worry 'bout when it comes to believing what 'e says, even if 'e did manage to get 'himself caught like that."

"Well then," Beckerman said, "I guess we'll be getting him then, seeing as I trust your judgement an' all. But your judgement _is_ what I'm basing this on, so no pressure if you're wrong!" He winked at Old Jack as the older man chuckled softly.

"I'll use people from outside this village- less likely for you lot to be made an example of if we're caught then." He went on. "Now then, seeing as I now have a rescue operation to sort out, I should be off. Places to go, people to see!"

"Be orf with you, you ole sod." Old Jack laughed. Beckerman's confidence was infectious, and he could make any predicament light-hearted. He was exactly the kind of leader the resistance needed. A good man.

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Outside of the village, Beckerman stopped. Out of his rucksack, he took out a Starfleet-issue communicator. He activated it and spoke a few words into it. He listened for the response, nodding as he listened, and signed off. He put it back in the bag and abruptly swivelled around, hearing something rustling.

He stepped forwards, tense...

... and relaxed, his whole demeanour changing. His stance loosened as he realised who it was in front of him, having walked out from the concealing tree trunk.

"You're late," the voice echoed in Beckerman's head.

Beckerman swallowed, a minute movement, but still one that showed his nervousness. "The old man was telling me about someone you've captured. He wants him rescuing so that he can bring reinforcements."

"Indeed," the voice echoed again.

The moon came out from behind the clouds for a second, and lit up Beckerman and his companion.

"You should beware of when and where you use that transmission device." The voice continued. "Someone will wonder from whom you obtained it. You are the only human who has one. It would be unwise for it to become common knowledge that you have such a device."

"Yessir." Beckerman swallowed again. "I was contacting my friend in Starfleet telling him about your prisoner. He doesn't know who it could be, but he is certain that whoever they are, they come from the Starfleet ship _Enterprise_. Its' captain went to see Admiral Gardner and assisted in the evacuation of Earth citizens not long before you came."

His companion looked away, apparently in thought. "We initiated combat with a human vessel prior to the invasion of this planet. When attempting a two-way connection with us, the captain told us his name and the name of the vessel. A most amateurish habit- a species can do a lot of damage with merely a name."

It turned back to Beckerman. "Did you say you would rescue this prisoner?"

"Yessir, once I had checked in with you, of course."

"Of course."

Beckerman got the impression that he was being reprimanded, though it was hard to say as he was always treated condescendingly by his companion. He realised that he was lucky to be alive. His cooperation came with a price, not least that he suspected the permanent communications implant in his brain was going to have some negative effects on his mind, but at least he would live out this invasion with his life intact. His 'friend' started speaking again,

"We will allow you to free this human we have under our supervision. Find out from him whatever he knows and what his vessel is planning. You will receive further instructions once you have him. Make it the night of tomorrow. There will be minimal troops on guard duty around the village.

You may leave now."

And with that, the being left in silence, barely a whisper signifying his departure.

Beckerman released a breath and left in the opposite direction.


	12. Chapter 12

Thank you to my reviewers: volley and firebirdgirl!

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It was a dark night, and unusually, there were fewer Aurigans than normal on patrol around the village as four shadows crept around house corners. A hard eyed red headed woman snuck a look around the bush she'd been hiding behind to get a good view of the hotel not 200 yards in front of her.

All was quiet.

She ducked back to the three men waiting behind her for the verdict. She nodded to the one closest to her, Beckerman, who gave a thumbs up to a thirty-something man of rugby-playing build, and a smaller, slightly older man with obvious military bearing behind him. The men nodded back in return, tightening their grips on the knives they held.

With a final look, the woman in front darted forward and crouched in the shadow of the hotel porch. Beckerman followed her, but the other two men continued around to the cellar entrance at the side of the building.

Using a thick set of wire cutters that had been retrieved from a hidden pouch under his shirt, the rugby-set man proceeded to cut through the tough old chains of the cellar door while the military man held them to stop any noise the clanking might have made. They made short work of the chains and the door opened to allow them inside. The speed and apparent effortlessness of the entry was borne of professionalism in that area, but that was all in the past now.

Back at the front door, Beckerman and the woman had taken a bit longer to open the more high-tech lock , but they were soon in, and crouched behind the abandoned desk in the deserted foyer.

"I don't like this, it's far too quiet. Has to be a trap of some kind. Where are they all?" The woman whispered.

Beckerman peered around the edge of the desk to check that there was no movement from beyond, as he'd been promised the night beforehand. He turned back to his companion.

"Don't complain Anya, lets make the most of what blessings we have!" He prayed silently that his face wasn't giving him away. He was skilled in convincing people that he was genuine, but Anya had known him a long time. Luckily, even though it seemed a lifetime ago, she still took the orders of her now ex superior as well as she did when they served together. She was quiet again on the matter.

"Most logical place to put a prisoner is the cold room downstairs." she said to his back. He nodded, but didn't reply. They crept around to the kitchen. There was a staircase in the back which had access to the cold room. Anya was getting more on edge from the lack of Aurigan presence, Beckerman could tell, but she hadn't mentioned it again. _Good soldier. Good friend_. Beckerman thought to himself. He was guilt ridden from keeping secrets from the three people he was with that night. They were all old friends with a past, but some things were necessary. _Yeah_, his mind continued, _you just keep convincing your self of that_.

The two of them stopped suddenly as they heard a door opening. Luckily, in the large industrial chrome kitchen (odd for such a small village hotel, but then apparently the old chef had been a bit of a diva), there were plenty of places to hide. Anya ducked inside an empty bread oven, and Beckerman shot underneath the elevated shelves around the kitchen, resisting the urge to grunt at the squeeze this put on his large frame. He turned his head so he could watch the slender feet of the two Aurigans glide along the kitchen from the cold room stairway to the kitchen entrance. He waited a few heartbeats after they had left the room, and made his way out of his hiding place. Anya was waiting for him already by the door, peering around the sliver she had opened.

"All quiet." She moved forwards, knowing instinctively that she had Beckerman's say-so to do it.

They made their way warily down the stair way, only to find the two other men already down there, having cleared the way for their exit out of the cellar.

"Room's clear," 'military' said. 'Rugby' was knelt by the door, ready to hold the fort as Beckerman entered the room with 'military' behind him. Anya waited with 'rugby'.

Beckerman moved forward, leaning his head away from the hooks suspended from the ceiling and the animal carcasses. His breath started to form mist. Damn, it was cold. The room was so quiet, it was eerie. He knew his friends well, that the two men would have checked the area first and would have known if the enemy was around, and he still had the promise from the night before ringing in his head, but the air had a feeling of _suspense_, like something was about to happen, and he was right in the middle of it.

The cold store was dark, until a couple of the lights flickered on. Beckerman whirled, to see 'military' by the light switches.

"Bloody hell Pete!" Was all he said.

Pete grinned mirthlessly, and made a few steps forward, eyes darting all around the room. Beckerman turned back to the room and with the light that was now sporadic around the room, he could see the lone figure tied to a chair in the centre of the room, turned away from the door.

He ventured forward, aware of the lack of time the Aurigans would give him here.

The head of the boy- no, man- the face had seen some battles he realised, and was a man even if the body wasn't so old- was limp, as were his fingers, forced behind him so forcefully, that at least one arm was dislocated. Looked as if some of the fingers were broken too. The rest of his body didn't have a chance to be anything but rigid, as he was tied so tightly to the chair it held him upright. The body before him was as battered as a body could be, covered in blood and bruises, both fresh and old, on both counts. He reached forwards to take a pulse. It seemed hard to believe that the man could still be alive, even though Beckerman had seen stranger things. He was actually relieved when he felt a pulse fluttering under his fingers. He looked again at the face and saw a mark on the left temple which could only be due to the octopus. Beckerman had been subject to one of those once before, and he never wanted the experience of it again. He almost shuddered at the memory. Instead, he got out some small wire cutters and released the man in front of him, who immediately slumped sideways. Beckerman caught him, and lifted him in his arms, surprised at the lightness of the dead weight.

He went towards the door, with Pete coming up behind him. Anya and 'rugby' led the way towards the cellar entrance down the dark corridor. Anya took point again, and opened the outside door enough to look out and around. It had started raining, which made it easier to hide the sounds of their exfiltration. This thought was relief to everyone but Beckerman, who knew that they wouldn't be disturbed anyway, seen or not. The thought didn't make him feel any better. More slightly sick, deep in the gut.

They carried on, coming the way they had beforehand, through the shadows of the houses, and onwards through the dark night out of the village, and on to the next small town only a couple of miles away. It was a slog, but all four of them were seasoned soldiers, and had been on much more arduous treks before, so carrying the man so urgently in need of medical attention didn't hinder them very much.

They entered the small town, although it might as well have been a village, it was as quiet as the one they had just left because of the curfew. There were a few more Aurigans on patrol around here, but they were still 'safe', Beckerman knew.

Here, there was a medical station, to attend to the injuries of the human workers. _Slaves_, Beckerman reminded himself. This was what the proud human race had been reduced to. The sick feeling grew worse, but it didn't show on his face, for which he was grateful.

The medical station was run entirely by humans, the Aurigans seemed disinclined to come into the place, so it had been decided that whatever condition the rescued man would be in, this would be a safe place for him to come. Looking down at the man in his arms, Beckerman felt that it had been a providential bit of planning.

A friend of Anya's- a doctor- came forward as they made their way into the med station. He looked at the man's injuries grimly.

"Leave him with us, we'll work on him. He's lucky the Aurigans didn't shoot him on sight, he's in bad shape."

Beckerman just nodded his thanks, knowing that it was the Aurigans that had done this to him for a reason, and that the doctor would soon know it too- the injuries were meant to keep him alive and in pain for as long as possible. _Torture_. The word wouldn't leave his head, wondering if the same thing was happening to the one he'd had to leave behind in their hands.


	13. Chapter 13

Thank you for reading everyone! I like reviews, don't we all, but it is also nice to see the page hit number going up every time I log in!

I did this faster than I thought I would- evidently, that Doctor Who fic I posted earlier put me on a roll- I am quite chuffed.

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From the point of view of Sickbay, the last few days had been ludicrously busy. All of Phlox's skills had been called upon. As a physician, he had treated more people than he had ever had to treat from a single incident before. On the other hand, there were horrifically few patients, considering an entire planet had met its' untimely demise. As a counsellor, he had had to deal with both the surviving people of Coridan and the crew of the Enterprise upon seeing the wholesale slaughter of the planet. The ships which had still been in orbit when the Romulan warbird had crashed as a suicide run into the dilithium-rich planet had tragically been able to transport all of the planet's survivors between them to Denobula where Phlox's people made good on their promise to act as medics in the war which had come to a head so suddenly.

It was the middle of the ships' night now, and it was all very quiet on board.

And yet the absence of people did not bring peace to the ship. The lack of the crying and moans of pain and the overwhelming grief of the people left only with the burn scars somehow made the silence louder for the people of Enterprise. It left them with their thoughts, something which, as Phlox had discovered in his counselling role, the crew of the ship really did not want or need in the face of what was no doubt yet to come.

It had been a while since Lieutenant Reed's last transmission to Ensign Sato, and the added silence that it brought only further added to the tension. Phlox had to enforce counselling sessions for the crew to ensure their mental well-being. It was at times like this when he wished he had the services of another physician on board to assist him and his well-being too. He would recommend to Starfleet that their next ships that they would no doubt send out have that luxury.

Now that Enterprise had finished in its' self-imposed duty towards Coridan, the ships' mission was hanging in limbo. They had been waiting for instructions from Lieutenant Reed, but the lack of such instructions was leaving the Captain at a loose end.

The Comm. Panel buzzed, calling for all Senior Officers to meet in the Situation Room.

Phlox got up and left for it, leaving Liz Cutler in charge of Sickbay.

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Phlox got into the room with Commander Tucker just behind him. Everyone else was already there. The Captain looked restless, almost like he needed the restroom as he shifted from foot to foot in impatience. Archer wasted no time and went straight to the point.

"Ideas, people. What do we do now? We knew Malcolm wouldn't be able to communicate with us all the time, but it has been eight days now, and not a thing."

"It is possible that he's having problems with the communicator, Captain, and so has been unable to contact us," Hoshi said slowly, not believing it herself, she'd built the machine well. None of them believed it. Malcolm had been giving survival lessons to the crew in shifts so that they would be more likely to survive under any circumstance than they might otherwise. A couple of his lessons had been how to use broken communications equipment with various resources one might be able to find (such as a Suliban cell ship) and call for help. It obviously wasn't exactly as simple as it sounded, but of all the people they knew, after Hoshi, Malcolm could do it with his hands tied behind his back. Besides, it was more like a refresher course anyway- they'd all had that kind of tutelage at Starfleet basic training.

"Before he left," T'Pol said, "Lieutenant Reed believed that he would attempt to be caught to learn more about the Aurigans. We do not want to come to his aid only to discover that we sabotage a carefully-laid plan of his."

Jon let out a frustrated breath. He seemed to be doing a lot of that recently. This latest peril for the galaxy seemed to have no end, nor any obvious escape for the beings involved. He looked at T'Pol. "And what if he **is** in trouble? Malcolm would have communicated to us if he was going to try something like that-"

"Unless an opportunity arose which he could not ignore."

"- he would have let us know somehow." Jon finished, glaring at her. "So assuming for the moment that Malcolm is in trouble, what do we do?"

They were all quiet, not meeting each other's eyes, unsure of what they could do, but each wanting desperately to help their 'family' member.

Trip spoke up eventually causing the others, barring T'Pol, to almost sag in relief that the wrath of Archer, though directed _at_ them, was no longer _on_ them.

"I guess that though we can't do anything for sure just yet, we could at least move closer- as close as we can, even if it isn't safe- so that when that call comes through, we'll be there faster. It's not much, but at least it's something."

It was Jon's turn to slump minutely as he in turn realised the position they were in. He nodded though, and then immediately ordered Travis to make it happen.

"Captain," T'pol spoke up once more, "it would be a wise move to consolidate the forces we have accumulated so far and strengthen our plans with the Andorians, Vulcans, Alpha Centaurans, and Tellarites."

Jon sat up straighter again, as the more active plan was laid out. "Hoshi, initiate contact with all Alliance members. T'Pol, come up with a strategy. Trip, get ready for the kind of damage we saw last time with these Aurigans."

He looked around at each person before him, proud of their dedication, not only to their tasks, but also to their missing crewmember. He met their eyes, and this time, the wrath had gone, and in its' place was a spark of ruthless enthusiasm.

"Let's get to it people."


	14. Chapter 14

It had been about a week since Beckerman and his team had rescued the Starfleet man from the village hotel. Under the care of Doctor Green who had found a place to put him when he'd first been brought in, the young man, though still unconscious, was looking better than he had done, by a long way.

At this particular instance in time, Beckerman was sitting on an upturned wooden box in the corner of the small room which was mostly occupied by the zed-bed in the other corner with its' sleeping patient on it. He sighed and leant his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped in front of him staring at nothing in particular.

He stayed like that for a few minutes. It was quite peaceful in the room, like a calm before a storm.

He hated himself for his weakness in that moment, but he knew he had a job to do. He got up, and with a quick glance to make sure the young man was still asleep, he turned to look out the window and got out his communicator. It would have been safer to do this elsewhere, but since 'rescuing' the man behind him, the Aurigans had put on a show of having more security than normal. This was the most private place Beckerman could find at that point.

He waited for a voice on the communicator which came readily.

"I've been waiting for you to contact me again Becks. The Aurigans are becoming impatient with waiting for your information." The voice paused. "You **have** got information, haven't you?"

Beckerman swallowed inaudibly.

"Not yet. He is still unconscious. I'll be here when he wakes though, he's right behind me."

"Don't you think that's risking it a bit?? What if he wakes up?"

Just to be sure of himself, Beckerman looked back at the man again.

"He's unconscious and has been for a week. He got quite a battering."

The voice on the other end paused, but seemed to accept the situation.

"From the information you gave me Becks, I'd be positive in saying that this is Lieutenant Malcolm Reed of _Enterprise_. He's the Armoury Officer and Chief of Security. One of Starfleet's best. Archer would send him, wouldn't he."

The question was rhetorical, so Beckerman didn't bother answering it. It was like his friend on the other end was now talking to himself, trying to work out how to use Reed to best advantage, or at all, even. Having a highly proficient security officer on their hands wasn't something they needed, even if they could extract information from him.

There was silence again, even though Beckerman and his friend were still connected. _Friend_, he thought bitterly. It was this man who had got him entangled in this charade of double-agent in the first place. He'd had enough of it.

"Now look here Sanders, you saved my life that time, true, but we're not soldiers anymore. You can't assume I'm going to come running every time you whistle.

The voice of Sanders on the end of the line chuckled at that.

"But I can Becks, I can. You remember your daughter, I'm sure. Now, the Aurigans are taking good care of her, but if you don't keep up your end of the deal I'm afraid a little girl isn't of much use for our new hosts."

He left the threat unspoken. Beckerman was unable to speak as his jaw was clenched too tightly for any sound to emerge.

Sanders carried on.

"Do as you're told Becks, _sir_. Get the information from Reed and you'll see Suzi again."

The comm clicked off as Sanders left the conversation. Beckerman let out a growl and punched the wall, hard enough to graze his knuckles.

He was no fool. It would be this job, and then he'd get Suzi back, and then one more thing before he did, and then one more...

He looked over at Reed and was momentarily surprised to find blue eyes staring back at him, perfectly lucid.

Neither said anything.

Neither felt they needed to. In that one moment, a comradeship seemed to appear out of nowhere between the two of them, and while Beckerman didn't know how much the other man had heard, he knew that he understood the situation properly, even understood what he was going through with his daughter. Beckerman wondered what had happened to the man before him to induce such immediate understanding and recognition.

Beckerman sat down, not looking away from Reed.

"That was Sanders, as in Lieutenant Sanders, Admiral Gardner's personal aide, wasn't it? I recognised the voice." Reed said, confirming to Beckerman that even in the healing process as Reed was, the man was still as sharp as a pin. He felt a sudden desire to confess his actions to this man. He hadn't even been able to do that to his oldest friends- Anya King, Pete MacPherson, and Dan Jones. But this quiet man, having risked capture and braved possible death to try and find out more about what had happened to his home planet just to relay it back to his ship, inspired trust in Beckerman. That and the slightly off way he said Sanders' name. Beckerman's mouth twitched at that with an impromptu smile. Totally out of place in their circumstance.

He looked Reed right in the eye and appreciated the patience he had.

"Funny how fast things can go, isn't it? Not a month ago, and Earth was just another unassuming planet going 'bout its' business." He finally looked away from Reed, who kept his eyes on Beckerman, now staring at his hands.

"I guess you heard me talking to Sanders then. We used to be soldiers together, along with the three other people who helped rescue you the other night. I was their commanding officer, though in one campaign together, we became particularly close-knit. 'Course, that's all over now. Was long before the Aurigans came along. Retired early, I did. Sanders was out even before that due to an injury he received in combat. It made him bitter, being bumped to a desk job instead of doing what he loved. He became the lap dog of a politician, though he could have done a lot worse than Gardner- he's an okay kinda guy.

I guess that's why Sanders is doing this now. Fallen in with the Aurigans, I mean. Never quite forgave the desk jockeys for making him one of them."

"I can understand that." It was the first words Reed had said since Beckerman began his story.

Beckerman nodded in appreciation, but carried on.

"As a unit, we knew each other well. We were all at each other's weddings and meet up regularly, except Sanders, that is, but he wasn't kept out of the loop, he just never showed up. We told him about our children and partners and the like. I never even began to imagine that he was bitter enough to do what he did though. He used the information we gave him through friendship against us. He had my daughter, Suzi, taken away from me when the Aurigans came. Said they'd 'look after' her while I did a job for them. He knew I'd do anything for her, we're all each other has. Her mother died a couple of years back. Only a few odd relatives dotted about. The only reason Suzi and I weren't together when they came was because I was out for a run in the countryside. Do it everyday. Came back to a group of Aurigans who used that octopus thing on me to check that what Sanders had said about me was right, that they could use me."

Both Malcolm and Beckerman shuddered at the memory of the octopus, Malcolm wincing as he did so because of the tight healing skin around his temples.

"So I became their double agent." Beckerman went on, beginning to struggle now. "They let me go so that I could pose as a freedom fighter, a resistance member for the human race, rallying support, and return the information of who was going to be a liability to the Aurigans. They'd execute Suzi if they knew what I was telling you now."

"I won't say anything."

Beckerman looked Malcolm straight in the eye. He saw the man was sincere, not taking the mick at all.

"The name's Beckerman. Stanley Beckerman, but I'd prefer if you forgot the Stanley bit."

"Malcolm. Malcolm Reed," he returned, holding out a shaky hand, which Beckerman took, both smiling as they did, each feeling better for the friendship that had sprung up.

"Do you have my communicator?" Malcolm ventured, once the handshake had broken. "I had it on me when I was captured. It can signal my ship- I must let them know I'm alright before they try and rescue me without knowing what is going on."

"Didn't see anything like that- only Aurigan or hotel stuff. 'Course, we weren't looking for it. You can use my communicator if you like, though they'll be monitoring it, you can be sure of that."

Malcolm considered the position. "How long have I been here for?"

"You've been in this med-station for 'bout a week now."

"Right," Malcolm said. "Long enough for my Captain to have had the jitters and be mounting a suicide rescue mission then." He looked at Beckerman with a trace of humour. "Thank goodness for our Vulcan SIC to stop him."

Beckerman laughed, "Good ol' Vulcan logic, here's to them all! Never thought I'd say that."

Malcolm lay back on the zed-bed to save his strength, and Beckerman leant against the wall behind the box he sat on.

Malcolm's thoughts sobered as they returned to the situation in hand. "Do you know how the Aurigans and the Romulans fit in together? I asked at the village, but they didn't know anything about it."

Beckerman rubbed a hand over his unshaven chin as he thought, crossing his legs out in front of him as he did. "Sanders mentioned something 'bout a coalition between them- the two most ruthless powers in this quadrant of the galaxy combined to make a force that no-one could stand up to."

"The Andorians wouldn't be impressed to be cut out of that title," Malcolm put in. "Especially Shran," he added to himself.

"Heh, no, I guess not.

"Anyway," Beckerman continued, "you probably know more about the Romulans than anyone else- you've met them."

Malcolm raised his eyebrow, thinking of their encounter with the Romulans. "I think to say that we 'met' the Romulans is stretching the truth a bit. We don't even know what they look like. They're incredibly isolationist. Told us to leave their territory despite being in an awkward position at the time."

"Direct route to your destination and they wanted you to go around- something like that?"

Malcolm's mouth twitched in memory. "Not quite. It is odd though- they keep themselves to themselves, and here they are forging coalitions. Not exactly normal behaviour for what we know of them."

He frowned, clasping his hands over his stomach as he thought about what that could mean. Then he remembered something else. "The ship I came to Earth in wasn't that far away from the village where I assume you found me. I should get back to it. I have enough information for now to give my Captain a reasonable idea of what we're facing up to. Then we can figure out a plan and get on with it, fast."

Beckerman blew his cheeks out. "Grief, if you left a ship out there, then it's probably been cannibalised by now. Or the Aurigans have it. Either way, it's a goner."

Malcolm stiffly and very gently turned to his side and inched his way to sitting up, testing each muscle as he did. "Actually, this ship should have been spared, on both counts. It's cloaked."

Beckerman sat forward, eyes widening as he did. "Where on Earth did you find _that_ little gem??"

Malcolm stretched his arms and rubbed his bruised wrists before answering, inspecting the still-swollen fingers where they had been broken before. "Not on Earth. Picked it up around the last time Earth was in danger. Has served us well. Our Chief Engineer would have a blue fit if I didn't come back with it. Then again, maybe he'd stop tinkering with it and ending up with invisible arms." He laughed at that, as Beckerman looked slightly stunned. Maybe life in Starfleet wasn't as bad as he'd heard it was. They seemed to be quite the community on that ship of theirs.

"Well, in that case, let's get you back to your ship. The sooner you lot come and help us, the sooner I..." he drifted off, thinking of Suzi and what she might be going through. She would be terrified.

"We'll leave tonight under cover of darkness. I'll get you to the outskirts of the village, then you can show us the way to your ship. I reckon you should make the most of the day by stretching your muscles- they've been out of it for quite a while."

Malcolm nodded in agreement, then winced as he found a crick in his neck. "What will you tell Sanders when he finds out I'm gone?"

"Ah, I'll think of something, that you escaped while I was out. He can't prove either way, and he may have a hold over me, but they need me too, so should be OK." He stood up and held out his hand to Malcolm, who unsteadily got to his feet and shook it. "Good to meet you, Malcolm. Be seein' you tonight." He turned to leave, then stopped and turned back. "Oh yeah, you'd better take my communicator so you can contact your ship when you're out of atmosphere. Better than nothing. Just ignore it if someone tries to get through to you- it's probably Sanders, and he's used to me ignoring him every now and then, even if he does have a go at me bout it. He won't be able to contact you after a while- you should be out of range." He smirked at Malcolm's raised eyebrow. "Sorry, didn't mean to tell your grandmother how to suck eggs or anything. Just, be ready."

"Always. And Beckerman, thankyou, and good luck."

"You too."

And he left the room, feeling better than he had in some time.

Malcolm gingerly sat back on the zed-bed and started to test his muscles. Yes, he was going to need some work, though hopefully not enough for Phlox to notice and do something about when he returned to _Enterprise._ The thought of going home warmed him, and he set out to work, determined to be as fit as possible to get there quickly, and in one piece.


	15. Chapter 15

Beckerman and Malcolm came out of the side of the forest furthest away from the village. The last of the clouds in the sky moved away from the moon, and the countryside before them was lit up. It was a contrast from the village-side, which had buildings beginning to look more and more skeletal as resources were taken away some still with people trying to live inside, shops having been broken into and ransacked for extra food, Aurigan patrols always on the move keeping watch on the people, farm crops being harvested, even the trees had started being deforested for raw materials for the invaders. Unlike when Malcolm had come to Earth and seen what seemed almost like an untouched sleepy little English village, Beckerman now told him of the mass gravesites being dug out for the victims of the Aurigan shootings and for those who had succumbed to the exhaustion.

In the past week, the Aurigans had been driving the humans faster and harder to complete the ransacking of Earth. Their forces were becoming stretched out over space.

"They've already left Alpha Centauri, and are just packing up Vulcan, ready for the off. They want to be away and into the next planetary system before they've hung around too long and other species take advantage of their standing still and ambush them. Wish I knew where they were going next- would make your job a bit easier." Beckerman said ruefully, looking around and wondering where this cloaked ship might be.

Malcolm looked briefly over the area and then cautiously headed towards an old oak stump tree stump close to the forest, to the left of where they were. "Our communications officer can work miracles with transmissions and codes- maybe she'll pick something up on the communicator you gave me."

He stopped and held out his right arm in front of him, bent slightly, reaching out whilst edging his way forwards slowly.

Beckerman stayed where Malcolm had stopped, neither wanting to get in the way nor crack his head on an invisible ship.

"I left it on minimal power, just enough to keep it cloaked and ready to leave, just in case." Malcolm distractedly explained as his hand touched the cold surface of the alien craft. He brought his left arm up to meet his right hand, and then spread them apart, scanning the surface by touch. His left middle finger found what he was looking for and pushed, the door of the craft cracking open and outwards. Malcolm ducked and looked inside. Everything was as he'd left it, even the ration bars remained untouched. He half wished that someone had made off with those at least.

Beckerman made a low whistle in appreciation. He stepped towards the now-visible entrance and craned his head around the opening taking in the details. Cramped, but obviously a superb piece of engineering. By Earthly standards, anyway.

Malcolm hooked his right leg over the side, keen to be off, but he turned towards the man next to him who was now running his hands over the outside of the cellship.

"I know it doesn't look possible, but you can come with me if you like. You've seen so much here, you would be invaluable."

Beckerman stopped and tilted his head towards Malcolm. "Thanks for the offer, but no thanks. You know I can't- I have to be there for Suzi, at least in spirit even if I can't be in person. It wouldn't be right to go swanning off while she's here. I couldn't do it." He said softly, in clear fatherly fashion. Just the thought of his daughter seemed to iron out the rough edges of the old soldier, Malcolm noticed. "Plus," he added on after a second or two, "I may be a double agent, but I do do _some_ good here- get people extra food and letters from relatives and friends in nearby camps. It does help even if I am ultimately a pawn of Sanders'."

Malcolm nodded once, completely understanding. "In that case, you shouldn't stay out here much longer in case they miss you or see you returning. Good luck."

"Good luck to us all Malcolm. You better have this sorted within the week- I miss my full-English breakfasts!" He winked, then became serious again, grasping Malcolm's hand and wrist and shaking it emphatically. "Godspeed."

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He watched from just inside the forest's boundary as a small, swift breeze fluttered the grass around where he'd last seen Malcolm and tried to follow the slight whine as the ship rose and whipped off for the stars.

He stood staring at one star in the Orion constellation where he imagined Malcolm might have gone to.

He roused himself a few minutes later and turned, once again for the villages he'd double-crossed, but now his step was lighter than it had been and he had a hope for the future once more.

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"Captain, incoming transmission." Hoshi said, making Archer turn towards her as she added, "It's Lieutenant Reed requesting permission to come aboard." She finally turned, grinning at Archer.

Smiles lit up the Bridge. It had felt like forever since Malcolm's transmission after leaving Earth saying that he was returning to the ship, but not anything more for fear of being overheard. One could add a day to that forever since they'd last seen him after sending him on his mission without back-up.

"Bring him home Hoshi," Archer grinned back, getting up from the command chair and headed towards the turbolift. "T'Pol, you're with me. Hoshi, have Phlox report to the shuttle bay, no emergency, but just to be sure. Travis, you have the Bridge."

"Aye Sir," came two replies as the Sub Commander followed the Captain into the lift.

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The light above the doorway into the shuttle bay switched from red to green indicating that the room had repressurised, and Archer led T'Pol and Phlox, who had caught up with them, through the door.

The fully de-cloaked cell ship was now perched innocuously beside the shuttlepods and the hatch was open with Malcolm half inside still. He jumped all the way down, turned, saw the other three people in the bay and immediately came to attention, as far as his sore limbs would allow. This last didn't go unnoticed by Phlox, who casually moved his scanner from his side to clasp it in both hands in front of him and scanned the weary traveller. He got away with the scanning as the Lieutenant was busy with the Captain and the Sub Commander and was now resting 'at easy', hands held behind his back.

"How was the trip Malcolm?" Archer asked him. Faced with his commanding officer, Malcolm responded as if he were on duty which, Phlox supposed, wasn't far from the truth, even if not officially.

"I have all the information I felt I could achieve without endangering any life, Captain." Malcolm said stiffly.

Archer looked a mix of exasperation and amusement, as he quite often did when Malcolm addressed him in full British officer mode, but he merely responded with, "Once the good doctor has seen to you, get changed, have a proper meal, and then report to my Ready Room for a debrief- I'm very keen to hear what you have to say, so don't take too long. Although, I **will** be asking Chef later how much you ate, so no skipping out on the meal- you look like you haven't eaten since you left!"

He turned to leave, but after a couple of steps, he stopped and looked back towards Malcolm, now looking at Phlox with an annoyed expression, although his look returned to the Captain as he returned and clapped his hand on Malcolm's left shoulder.

"Good to have you back with us Malcolm."

"Good to be back Sir."

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The door to the Captain's Ready Room hissed open as Malcolm stepped through, now clean, shaven, and back in uniform. He'd actually rather enjoyed the order to have a hearty meal again, and had taken full advantage of the fact that Chef had done a beef roast along with Yorkshire puddings and a healthy amount of rice pudding with jam for dessert. The size of the meal had almost appeased Phlox who had insisted on accompanying him to the mess after he'd discovered the extent Malcolm had suffered while away. Malcolm's good mood was further enhanced by all the painkillers he was now dosed up with.

The Captain was sitting behind his desk and the Sub Commander was sitting upright in the chair at the side of the room. Malcolm came to attention, but was immediately told to 'rest easy'. He looked at Archer who was most definitely waiting, so Malcolm reached into his jumpsuit pocket and pulled out a PADD. On it, he had detailed everything he'd done and learned on Earth while he had been on his journey back to Enterprise and it was still fresh in his mind.

Archer flicked his eyes through the report. The best part of reading one of Malcolm's reports was that they were concise and to the point. He alternately raised his eyebrows, lips pulling apart slightly in shock, and frowned as he read through, finally settling on frowning as he handed the PADD to T'Pol who was waiting patiently. Malcolm was so quiet just standing there for that time that it was as if he wasn't there.

Once T'Pol had a hold of the PADD, Archer addressed Malcolm.

"You're very brief in your report Malcolm. You say you found a way to find out the Aurigan's intentions, but you don't expand on exactly **how** you managed it. This wouldn't have anything to do with Phlox requesting for you to be put on light duties for the next couple of days, would it?"

Malcolm squared his jaw as he tried to answer without lying to his Captain or making himself appear unable to do his duties as normal.

"Malcolm?"

"Yes Sir," he said eventually, loyalty overcoming pride, "but my techniques were most effective at acquiring the information necessary for us to proceed."

Archer sat back in his chair, inspecting Malcolm, torn between pressing Malcolm further on his health and not missing out on anymore time to help Earth.

He decided that, for now, Earth would have to come over a crew member- 'for the greater good', as T'Pol would have said if she's known what he was thinking.

He may have just read Malcolm's report, but Archer was a firm believer in getting information from the person rather than a report- it was usually more detailed, and usually involved personal impressions and interesting tidbits that wouldn't have seemed essential to put in an official report, but could prove useful later on.

"So let me get this straight. These Aurigans move around in colonies, moving from planet to planet, harvesting resources and pretty much helping themselves to anything useful, leaving only death and destruction in their wake, then they move on and do it again."

"Yes Sir."

"And they seem to have no regard for life."

"No Sir."

"And you weren't able to find anything out about their technology and any weaknesses it might have?"

Malcolm's eyes tightened, just perceptibly. "No Sir. All I know is that their forces are being stretched in their greed to harvest more planets than they have the resources to cater for. Strategically speaking, now is the time to move in on them Captain." He then remembered the communicator which Beckerman had given him, and held it out to Archer, who took it as Malcolm said, "I do have this Captain- it is the communicator my contact on Earth gave me. He used it to communicate with Lieutenant Sanders-" Malcolm hesitated for a second, but knowing also that it had to be said. "He was the leak Sir. In league with the Aurigans."

"Sanders??" Archer exploded, more than just a little surprised. "As in Admiral Gardner's aide, Lieutenant Sanders?" He absently put the communicator down on the desk.

"Yes Sir. Apparently a grudge against politicians and a lack of ethics, or maybe just a lack of understanding of the desperate situation at hand made him do it."

Archer stood up in anger, making his chair jerk back as he did so. "Nothing **made** him do it Lieutenant-"

Archer looked set to say more until he caught T'Pol's eye and marginally calmed down enough to let her speak. She looked at Malcolm, who'd taken Archer's explosion quite matter-of-factly.

"You mentioned a communicator, Lieutenant." She said, prompting him to expand.

Malcolm nodded towards the communicator now sitting on the desk in front of Archer. "Yes Sub-Commander. I thought it would be possible for Ensign Sato to eavesdrop on Sanders and the Aurigans and discover where it is they intend on moving next."

Although her expression didn't change, Malcolm had the impression she was considering what would have to be done to monitor Earth communications safely and use it to their advantage. She seemed to arrive at an answer, as her 'aura' rather than her expression, Malcolm decided, suggested satisfaction.

"The Lieutenant is correct Captain. This strategy is possible, and the ability to gain an enlightenment on the Aurigan movements would be of enormous benefit."

"And from there, we can come up with the perfect plan to sort this mess out!" Archer finished, getting caught up in the excitement of seeing a possible bright ending for the galaxy. He smiled in contentment that they now had a job to do. He looked up at Malcolm. "Lieutenant, well done. You're dismissed for now, you may get back to your Armoury. I'm sure you're itching to do so after so long gone."

Malcolm came to attention, and smartly turned and left the Ready Room.

Archer picked up Beckerman's communicator and tossed it towards T'Pol who caught it easily, but took no other notice of the Captain's conduct. "Take this to Hoshi- have her make it her top priority. Give her a hand if she needs it. I'll be talking to the other Alliance members."

T'Pol left the Ready Room as well to carry out her duties, leaving Archer to prepare the new inter-species fleet which had been created for just this reason- to stop the Aurigans.


	16. Chapter 16

One more chapter after this. Hope you all enjoy!

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Lieutenant Sanders sat at the desk where the Aurigans had allowed him to stay at Starfleet headquarters, although the place was looking quite stark these days where the metals and plastics had been stripped bare. Sanders didn't mind so much as it meant that there were fewer places for someone to place a bug or a wiretap.

For a human, the Aurigans had allowed him several luxuries- he still had the glass in his office windows, still had a desk, a communicator, and a computer. In return, all he had to do was give full support and co-operation to the Aurigan Colony _Tannis_.

He'd been kidnapped by the Aurigans whilst he was in the service of Admiral Gardner, and in him they had found a willing mind, one that held no allegiance to the planet of Earth. No family, and few friends since his old friends- all soldiers from his old unit- deserted him when he became grounded. A shattered knee be damned- he could still walk with the help of metal pins and hinge joints in place and a good deal of physiotherapy. He could still have served, but his 'friends' believed that the pencil-pushers were right and had given him a 'chance'. _A chance_, he scoffed, _anything but_. It had destroyed his life. He was a good politician though, and could play people well, but he'd made it certain that he would never have any other friends again. Fewer betrayals that way.

The Aurigans had promised him survival once Earth was destroyed and he would become part of their colony, an outsider to be sure, but that suited Sanders just fine. He would be an ambassador for the Aurigans, get them access to planets without spending their own resources, and then they would take over when said planets were least expecting it.

He searched his computer to see how long it would be before he left with the Aurigans. The time was close at hand- a day, maybe two, and then they'd be off. Sanders knew the next destination for takeover and destruction, and he knew it was going to cause more than a few upsets, and quite likely a war the like of which the galaxy had never seen before, thus leaving a galactic war for the decimated populations of the planets left behind. Sanders smiled cruelly at the thought of the chaos left behind for the politicians to argue over before they began on who it should fall to to clear up the mess. _If_ they survived, of course.

He frowned then, realising that he hadn't heard from Beckerman in a while. He loved having the upper hand over his old C.O., but the old guy did like disobeying orders when he could as much as he used to like giving them out.

He felt a twinge under his scalp.

He closed his eyes to concentrate and felt the permanent communications device lodged inside his brain 'speak' to him.

"Thirty-six Earth hours and the main colony shall leave this planet. You will be on Transport _Sesun_ if you wish to depart with us. It is already in orbit. You will have to use your own shuttle to get to it- it is prepared to leave the system"

Sanders opened his eyes and did a quick check on his computer terminal which he'd updated to include his schedule with the Aurigans. Transport _Sesun_ would be leaving its' orbit which was currently right above San Francisco.

"I'll be ready."

"Good. You are sure you can trust the data you have given us on our next destination?"

Sanders nodded, even though there was no-one there to see it. "Yes, _Enterprise_ is a very reliable and accurate source of information."

"Excellent. A minefield will be of no consequence. We shall destroy Romula, and then we shall have no species acquiring too much intelligence on us. Only the Romulans have the knowledge to destroy us. But that will be of no concern when they are gone. Their planetary defences are nothing compared to the might of the Aurigan Empire."

The voice disappeared, and the twinge under his scalp left. Sanders scratched his head where it now itched slightly instead as he reached forward to his communicator. It wasn't the first time he'd heard that spiel about the 'might of the Aurigan Empire... yada yada yada...'. He actually thought they were a bit up themselves and too confident. But he did have to admit that their technology was like nothing he'd ever seen before- they might be on the arrogant side, but they had every reason to be confident.

He activated his communicator to check that his personal shuttle would be ready for take off to Transport _Sesun_. He couldn't actually pilot the thing himself- he was a soldier, not some cocky hot-shot pilot, so he had his own pilot. Human, but he was good. Would be killed of course when his job was done, but he didn't have to know that yet.

"Ensign Jones, ready my shuttle for take off for 24 hours time. It's time to bring down the Empire!"

He clicked off and then cringed. Hopefully, the Aurigans hadn't heard that last. He'd said it as a somewhat flippant remark, but if someone worked out what he meant by that, then he'd be for the high jump. In many pieces.

Luckily for him, the Aurigans didn't use Starfleet technology.

Unluckily for him, someone else did. And that person heard.

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"Captain! I've got him!" Hoshi said excitedly, jamming the ear-piece further into her ear as she listened to Sanders' transmission to Ensign Jones. "Time to bring down the Empire! Time to bring down the Empire?" She repeated, pondering the statement.

"What is it Hoshi?" Archer came up next to her, his hands skimming across the rail. She looked at him, still with a slightly distracted look on her face.

"Lieutenant Sanders just made a transmission to an Ensign Jones to ready his shuttle for take-off in twenty-four hours. He also said 'it's time to bring down the Empire.'" She then focused on Archer properly, trying to read a reaction in his face that might give her a clue that he knew what that meant. But he only looked a little less confused than she felt. He turned to T'Pol and called her over, doing the same with Malcolm.

"Repeat what you just told me Hoshi."

"Lieutenant Sanders is leaving Earth in twenty four hours, and that it is time to bring down the Empire." She repeated for the sakes of T'Pol and Malcolm.

Archer turned to the latter two. "What do you make of that?"

T'Pol clasped her hands behind her back as she pondered the question. "Considering how long the Aurigans have stayed on Earth compared with Vulcan and Alpha Centauri, we can most likely assume that they are about to leave and that Lieutenant Sanders intends to go with them. Don't you agree Lieutenant? She asked of Malcolm.

"That would be my guess as well Sub-Commander. While I was on Earth, I was told that all over the planet, raw materials, anything of value, and assets have all been stripped almost completely leaving a desolate world in its' place. It would make sense for them to leave now." Malcolm agreed.

Archer nodded, pleased with their assessment, and trying to not think too hard about what he and the _Enterprise_ would find when they returned home. If they returned home. And if there was a home to return to. "But what about the empire bit?"

"Apart from their own empire, the only other empire in the area would be the Romulan Empire. But they are allies," Malcolm finished, shrugging slightly.

T'Pol turned to him again, "Unless it means that Lieutenant Sanders is looking to bring down the Aurigan Empire himself by that remark."

Archer snorted, having no love for the man in question. He slapped his left hand against his side as he tried to displace some of the rising anger he felt for the man who had sold out Earth. "Sanders may be an idiot, but I doubt even he would try and destroy a whole species alone."

T'Pol looked at him, tilting her head marginally. "He may not be working alone." She pointed out. "Although I believe you are correct Captain. It is unlikely that someone in Lieutenant Sanders' position would make his circumstances any less stable than they already are. Perhaps we should be in favour towards the thought that the Aurigans are about to sever their connections with the Romulan Empire instead."

"So would making Romula our next destination seem a good idea for us and for the Alliance?" Archer asked the three officers next to him in general.

Malcolm spoke up first. "I think, Sir, that it would be somewhat hasty for us to just appear at Romula, especially if we are wrong about this. It would probably be better if we came out of warp outside the system, but from a position where we could monitor and asses the situation without seeming to be too aggressive. Then we can provide assistance and hopefully knock a crushing blow to the Aurigans at the same time. I imagine the Romulans won't take kindly to having their supposed allies turn the tables on them,"

"I think that's an understatement Malcolm," Archer said, amused by his Armoury Officer's ability to gloss over something that had the potential to cause a huge galactic war.

"- so we could almost assume that they will fight back. If we are also there with our Alliance, we may be able to destroy the Aurigan threat once and for all." Malcolm concluded, undeterred by the interruption.

Archer became quite animated as he felt the rush of anticipation. He could tell Malcolm felt the same by the sharp, more focused look his eyes took on, Hoshi was smiling, and even T'Pol seemed to have caught on to the mood, despite her features not having changed at all.

"We seem to have had a a spontaneous strategy meeting without either Trip or Phlox. I'm going to go fill them in on the plan. Hoshi- get the Alliance members again and route them through to the terminal in my Ready Room. Malcolm and T'Pol, you two go there and come up with a plan that'll win us this thing. I'm relying on you."

"Yes sir," Malcolm replied, as he left with T'Pol.

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Lieutenant Sanders sat in the back of his shuttle being piloted by Ensign Jones as it manoeuvred its' way into the docking bay of the Aurigan transport vessel _Sesun_. Unlike their warships, the transport vessels were of a deep purple hue, but still with the same electric blue seams along them. The _Sesun _cast an ominous shadow over the little human shuttle as it swallowed it up inside.

The shuttle landed softly on the slightly squidgy insides of the transport, and Ensign Jones powered down the shuttle and opened the hatch door. He swivelled around in his chair to look back at his passenger.

Lieutenant Sanders stood up, getting a small flask from his bag he carried under his arm.

"Here Jones, drink some of this. It is a little concoction you're going to need to get over some of the headaches you'll be receiving from all the telepathic signals that are in here." He opened the small screw cap on the flask and held it out for the Ensign to take.

Jones took the flask and held it to his lips, looking at Sanders as he did. He hesitated slightly just before he took a large swig from it.

He gave it back to Sanders, who screwed the cap back on, looking away from Jones. He put the flask back in his bag and turned away to leave the shuttle as he began hearing the panicked gasps, rasping, and chokings of the man whose throat had closed up and could no longer breathe.

"Excellent piloting, as usual Jones. Don't forget to lock up." Sanders said to the young man behind him who wasn't listening anymore, just slouched haphazardly across the console in front of him.

An Aurigan stood ahead of him. It still annoyed him a bit that he couldn't recognise one Aurigan from another- he didn't even know a male from a female, or even if they had genders or not. They all looked, acted, and 'sounded' the same in his head. As a telepathic species, they had no use of names for each other. In their heads, they could feel the individual without a need for names. Sanders felt slightly jealous that he couldn't feel the hive mind that this colony had. Each Aurigan colony spanning across the galaxy had its' own hive mind, so each colony became one mind travelling together.

The Aurigan he had walked up to was not wearing the body armour that the ones who went down to the planets wore. Although this one looked just as elongated, still with the gracefulness that the soldiers below had, it was instead a deep charcoal-grey in colour, and had a quality like a mist, or an ultra-violet light. No matter how long he looked at them in this form, Sanders could never quite focus on them.

It spoke in his mind.

"You will accompany us to the control room where you will provide us your knowledge of this area of space."

Sanders stayed quiet, but did as he was told. He barely felt the tremor as the _Sesun_ left Earth orbit along with the rest of the Aurigan colony _Tannis_.

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Sitting in the Captain's Ready Room, Malcolm had to admit that while it always appeared that the _Enterprise _had nothing but enemies out in space, the reality was that they had more friends than they knew.

Hoshi had worked wonders in her field and had created a constant link between the ships of the Alliance fleet, and he, along with T'Pol, V'Lar, Shran, and the commanders of the Tellarite, Denobulan, and Alpha Centauri ships had been in discussion ever since they had started out for Romula.

The final plans of action were coming together to everyone's satisfaction, surprisingly. The Vulcans were to provide their own 'hive mind' as it were- they were going to be the headquarters of the operation, providing a central hub for all communications to go through and to co-ordinate everyone so the Alliance didn't descend into chaos.

The Tellarites and Alpha Centaurians were going to disable, rather than destroy the transport vessels, just in case there were hostages rather than Aurigans on board. They doubted their weapons would be able to get through the superior Aurigan shields, but with a little luck and a prayer, the combined strength would get through. Failing that, then at least it would distract the Aurigans while _Enterprise_ and the Andorians, led by Shran took on the war vessels. Malcolm and his team had modified some torpedoes so that their frequencies were modulated to try and break through the superior shielding of the Aurigan's warships.

The Denobulans would hang back, out of the fray, but not too far away, so that they could gather casualties and treat them in their ship.

It was a good conclusion to a plan that had only just been finalised. Malcolm took the opportunity of being alone in the Captain's Ready Room to stretch back in the chair, arms high above his head. T'Pol had been insistent that they eat, and so she had left to get both of them meals while Malcolm stayed to triple check the part that _Enterprise_ would play. The viewscreen was quiet now, and only showing the Starfleet logo, where not so long ago, it had a split-screen view of the commanders.

Malcolm enjoyed the peace and quiet as he turned in the chair to watch the light blips of distant stars slip by.

The peace continued even when T'Pol walked back into the room with a tray and placed a bowl of creamy tomato soup and some bread next to Malcolm with a large mug of tea.

Disinclined to break the silence, Malcolm nodded to T'Pol his thanks, breaking his bread over the soup, as she sat in the other chair away from the desk and ate her own soup.

They ate in silence until, having both finished, she came towards the desk, putting her bowl back on the tray and looked at the finished plan for herself.

"You should get some rest Lieutenant. The Captain is already, and we will not have any time once we arrive at Romula. I will have my rest when the Captain has had his and can take over from me here." She said, anticipating what Malcolm would have said next.

"Yes Commander. We shall be arriving in-system in about ten hours, and we shall all arrive as one group. Shran, Ambassador V'Lar and the others are ready." Malcolm said as he picked up the tray to return them to the Mess hall.

"Sleep well, Lieutenant." T'Pol called as he walked out.

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Aurigan colony _Tannis_ arrived at the edge of the Romulan minefield.

The hive mind of the colony spoke as one to each other and felt it instinctively, rather than as a conscious effort.

_Increase output to shields, prepare for attack_.

They moved forwards, the warships firing blindly into the space in front of them, knowing that there were mines blocking their path, though they couldn't see them. Sanders had told them how the human starship _Enterprise_ had been able to see the mines of their viewscreen after modifying their scanning abilities, but the Aurigans knew that little mines would have no real consequence on their ships. Not unless there were more than the ships could stand, but Sanders had said that _Enterprise_ had been able to navigate their way through, so they didn't think there were too many too overload them.

They were rewarded for their continued firing by several explosions.

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Sanders stood separate from the Aurigans in the control room. It was quiet, not like a human operation where a preparation for battle meant hurried discussions, orders being given and being carried out, beeps from machines churning out the data that was required to do the job well, and a feeling of tension, excitement, and expectancy.

Here, all there was a surety that everything would go as planned. The Aurigans didn't even move. They just stood at their stations, moving their hands over controls that looked more like protruding spinal bones rather than any buttons or levers that Sanders had ever seen. In the centre of the control room was the... thing... that controlled them all. The hive mind itself. It looked like a pink blancmange, and it quivered like one too.

Sanders looked away from it, disgusted. The thing was repulsive to him, but the Aurigans always seemed to want to be close to it, like it was their heart, or soul, if they had one. Like they had come home to it when they were near it.

Suddenly, there was a vast explosion, and even Sanders 'heard' and felt the hive mind screaming. The Aurigans all around him reacted as if they'd been shot- some doubled over, and threw their hands around their heads, grasping their temples as if they could squeeze the apparent pain out- a couple grabbed their stomachs, looking as if they were going to throw up.

Then as one, they stood up again, as the hive mind got control back.

The Aurigan closest to him turned to him and 'spoke' to him.

"You told us that they mines here would not matter to us, that your _Enterprise_ had no difficulty."

Sanders paled as he realised that he was being accused.

"No, no! _Enterprise _**did** have difficulties- their Armoury Officer was impaled by one of the mines to the hull of the ship, and they were hit by them too. I told you this in the report-"

"Be quiet worthless _human_. You told us no such thing."

Sanders had the impression that the hive mind was watching him and knew how much it sickened him. It was a horrible thought, and a very threatening one.

The Aurigan turned away from him and back to its' station.

Sanders swallowed, suddenly afraid he might not live as long as he'd hoped.

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"Captain,we are about to come out of warp." Travis said over his shoulder to Archer who was standing with his right arm slung across the back of his command chair. All the Bridge officers were at their posts. Archer came round and sat at his chair, hands gripping the armrests.

The _Enterprise_ came out of warp and they saw ahead of them Romula, and outside it, barging their way through, the Aurigan colony- the warships ahead, clearing the mines out of the way. Or attempting to anyway.

"Captain," T'Pol said, "it seems that the Aurigans underestimated the amount of mines. They are being hindered by them."

Archer looked closer at the screen, focusing on the lead warships. It did seem that they had come to an all-stop.

"Right- Hoshi, keep the channels open to the _Sh'Raan_. Travis, ahead to the warships. Let's go."

The Alliance fleet broke up to assume their pre-planned positions and began.

As they did, a small fleet of Romulan warbirds rose to meet those that gathered above their planet.

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"You have betrayed us human!" The Aurigan in front of him had returned to Sanders, and was now showing more emotion than he thought they could. "Your ships come at us from one angle, and Romulan ships come at us from the other, and here we are stuck in the middle of a minefield which is clustered with more traps than you had us believe."

Sanders said nothing, knowing that he wouldn't be believed anyway. He felt the hive mind look at him again, and he felt its' glee. He knew what was coming.

In an echo of what he had done to Ensign Jones, the Aurigan in front of him turned away as a piercing screech ripped through his skull from the permanent implant there, emanating from the hive mind, but directed only at him. He felt a warmth of blood and saw only red as it poured out of his eyes, ears, and nose. He fell to both knees, feeling only a tickle now under his scalp and on his chin. Then he fell the rest of the way.

What had been Sanders now lay on the floor, but the Aurigans ignored it, concentrating only on the battle ahead.

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The lead warbird wove its' way through the minefield with practised ease. A lance of fire came from the Aurigan warship to it and caused an instant hull breach as several squadrons of Aurigan fighters which V'Lar had mentioned in the conference at Coridan left from the bellies of the larger ships.

Although crippled, the warbird continued onwards, although it now veered towards the Alliance vessels, which had now begun their assault on the Aurigans.

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The Bridge of the _Enterprise_ had thick smoke billowing out of the Situation area at the back from a hit which just grazed the hull, and it was obscuring the view of Archer, who moved around to Malcolm's station at tactical.

T'Pol hurriedly called for technicians to come and mend the sparking which came with the smoke.

Hoshi was busy relaying orders from the _Sh'Raan_. She was given the order to open an audio so that the Captain could hear the transmission as well as the other commanders of the fleet.

"Captain!" she called, coughing as the smoke reached her, "there is a transmission coming in for you to hear- it's from the Romulans, audio only."

Archer ran over to her station. "Put it on!"

A crackly audio came alive. Hoshi increased the output so they could hear it better over the noise of the Bridge and of the still-coming directions of the _Sh'Raan. _

"Ships of this sector, we have been betrayed by the Aurigan peoples. Your technology is no match for them. But ours is, and we know where their weaknesses lie. We will destroy them and give you the necessary data you need to facilitate, and in return, you leave us alone afterwards, never to breach our space again, with strict border control."

The Romulan finished, and then they heard the voice of V'Lar answering.

"We accept your terms, Romulan Commander. We will assist you, and then leave you to your isolation if that is what you wish."

The transmission cut out, the Romulans seemingly assuming that that was a deal. They swerved around to make a heading once again towards the Aurigan colony fleet.

Almost at once, Hoshi's panel lit up with an incoming data-feed from the Romulans, through the _Sh'Raan_. She fed it through to Malcolm and T'Pol, who realised it was the frequency values of the Aurigan shields.

Without warning, there was an explosion by Hoshi's console, flinging both her and Archer like puppets away from the console. Hoshi was dazed, but able to stand, but Jon hit his temple against Travis' console as he fell, knocking him out cold. Hoshi scrambled back to her seat, although her console was a mess of wires and flames. She left it and went to see if the Captain was alright. T'Pol called medical to the Bridge, but otherwise carried on.

"Lieutenant Reed," she raised her voice to be heard over the alarms ringing out. "As tactical officer, I place you in charge. I will take over Ensign Sato's duties."

She barely heard Malcolm's affirmative as the medical staff rushed on to the Bridge to take away the Captain and a very wobbly Ensign Sato.

Malcolm stayed at his station so that he could use the tactical readouts to make his decisions better informed. But before he could make any decision, one of the trailing Aurigan warships furthest away from the minefield which had been in combat against Shran's ship had slipped away and began firing on the _Sh'Raan_, realising that it was coordinating the Alliance fleet. Already weakened from other, less direct hits, a direct and ferocious battery of fire from the warship sliced cleanly through the _Sh'Raan_, cleaving it apart cleanly before an instant later when the ship exploded into thousands of tiny irredeemable pieces, all souls lost.

Apart from the still going alarms and the crackling of the machinery still on fire and sparking, the Bridge was deathly silent for a moment as everyone's eyes were glued to the viewscreen, mouths slightly open watching the deaths of all those people on the Vulcan ship.

"Lieutenant Reed, we must synchronise the Alliance forces before the Aurigans take advantage of the loss of our governing ship." T'Pol said loudly, recovering first, despite the loss to her personally.

Malcolm snapped his head round to her, then back down to his tactical panel.

"Commander, tell the Alpha Centaurian and the Tellarite ships to run as support ships, gathering up any survivors of the crippled ships and get them to the Denobulans now. Have Shran take a flanking position around the Romulan warbirds to discourage fire on them- they're our best hope of defeating the Aurigans. Travis, have us do the same." He ran off his commands as naturally as if he'd been doing it all his life, and the ships and people now under his command took his orders with no question.

Four ships- two Romulan, one human, and one Andorian- negotiating the obstacles between them and the Aurigan colony fleet, still for the most part clumped together to attempt to provide cover for the ships that held the inhabitants of the colony that all the resources of the invaded worlds were collected for.

Dozens of little Aurigan fighters flew around, inflicting what damage they could, but the four Alliance/Romulan ships flew unintimidated towards the main fleet.

The Aurigans spotted this movement, but it was too late for them as the Romulans fired their entire arsenal at the Aurigan warships on exactly the right frequency, disintegrating two before the Aurigans knew precisely what had happened. A third was crippled before it could bring its' weapons to bear, but the fourth warship got a clean shot off at one of the warbirds, leaving it trailing coolant and plasma, unable to go on. All signs of power left it as it stuttered off course.

Under Malcolm's direction, _Enterprise_, using the frequencies the Romulans had sent them, took out the transports, though not before an entire group of re-formed Aurigan fighters took out a nacelle. They managed to keep going under Trip's expert ministrations and his dedicated engineering team, though they were down to praying for their survival as the damage was pretty much being held together by duct tape and string and a piece of chewing gum now.

The last warbird took out the final warship; Shran's ship swooped over to make up for the gap created by the disabled warbird, and took out the Aurigan's colony ships.

The main part of the capital ships of the Aurigan fleet were destroyed, leaving fighters attempting to find a safe berth, whilst others went on suicide runs, believing that there was no reason to stop fighting, but knowing that theirs was a lost cause. The warships were gone, as were the majority of the transport vessels and the colony ships.

There were still the flares of explosions all over the battlefield from fighters ploughing themselves into the hulls of the Alliance fleet which, combined in one instance, took out a Tellarite ship.

The Alliance fleet was decimated, but they had succeeded in destroying the Aurigan threat.

On the _Enterprise, _Malcolm took the chance to sit back in his chair, and released the stress which had built up through adrenaline. He sat up almost immediately though, knowing that there was a lot of work to be done. He swiped his hand down his face, wiping away the sweat and blood trickling in equal measure from his brow. He couldn't see T'Pol from where he sat anymore- the smoke was just too thick. He got up and made his way around the Bridge, considering it his duty as temporary commander of the _Enterprise_ to check up on those he could, and those at the moment were those on the Bridge.

Travis was shaking from the pent-up energy which was still flowing through him, but apart from the sweat which also poured down his face- it really was hot in the room- he seemed alright, his gaze fixated on the screen, being right in front of him, he could still just see it, checking for any threats visually.

The technicians from engineering were bruised, but were faring well. Crewman Amar had broken his arm, but it didn't look a bad break- he'd been lucky.

Everyone's faces were grimy, and several uniforms were torn, but those were inconsequential.

Malcolm battled his way over the broken rail, ignoring the sparks from overhead wires which were trailing from the ceiling.

T'Pol had a gash across her shoulder, the green blood staining her uniform more obviously then the red human blood over their dark blue jumpsuits.

She was assessing the damage and sending engineering teams to the necessary places, and medical teams to attend to the injured. She looked at him as he stumbled past a fallen chair over to her console.

"Well done Lieutenant, we seem to have succeeded in our aim." Was all she had to say to him. He had to agree with her less than satisfied opinion of the outcome. The casualty lists were beginning to come in from _Enterprise_ alone, and they weren't good. Five confirmed deaths already, and no one seemed to have escaped without injury. The other ships outside had probably fared just as badly, Malcolm guessed.

"Now that the conflict is over, I turn my leadership over to you Sub-Commander." Malcolm said to her, formally handing over leadership of _Enterprise_.

"Thankyou Lieutenant, but stay here if you are well enough. There is much work that needs to be done."

Between them, with Captain Archer still unconscious, though it wasn't serious according to Phlox, they began to pick up the pieces of their lives.


	17. Chapter 17

Last chapter.

Thankyou to everyone who reviewed and who added to me to their alert lists and the like.

I hope you enjoyed it and that this is a fitting end for you.

I'm sorry it took so long- my next stories will be updated much faster.

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Malcolm cautiously made his way down the darkened corridor.

He paused at a door, and flattened his back against the wall next to it. One of his security team did the same on the other side. The remaining five took up covering positions as Malcolm unbolted and swiftly pushed the door open. Three ran in, shouting "Clear!"

They did the same for several of the doors down the same corridor.

The last door, they knew held a much bigger room, and they knew it was more likely to hold prisoners, should there be any left alive.

They took up the same positions, and as they pushed their way through, they saw that their assessment had been correct. This was the room with the prisoners in.

Malcolm went in next, with the security member who'd been on the other side of the door going in after him.

They immediately saw that there was no need for a security team, only a medical one.

In the largest room that had been a part of the vast storage chambers underneath Starfleet headquarters were all the prisoners that the Aurigans had taken to make various people of Earth do their bidding, such as Beckerman.

Malcolm turned back to the team member behind him. "Phillips, go back and get the medical team. It's safe for them to come down now."

"Aye Sir," he said, then turned to carry out his orders.

The team had fanned out to look for the cases that would need the most medical care first. Some of the people in the prison had evidently put up a fight before they came- they had bruises and had plainly been beaten recently, and all of them looked hungry.

Malcolm cleared his throat, looking over the people there- there were about forty of them.

"We are from Starfleet here. The Aurigans have gone, they've been defeated. You're free again, but I ask that you stay here until the medical team has had time to check you over. They'll be here presently."

Smiles greeted him, some people cried, men as well as women, and there were a few cheers. They hadn't been there long, but it had been traumatic for them.

Malcolm scanned his eye over the crowd. Most were adults, but he was looking for one in particular- a little girl. Suzi.

He thought he spotted her- a little girl with the same dark features as Beckerman. She looked afraid, but not terrified. She was huddled against the side of a woman who seemed to have taken her under her wing. Malcolm walked over and crouched down beside them as Phillips returned with the medical team who immediately found work to do.

"Suzi?" he asked her as gently as he could. The woman who was holding her arm around her looked him, guardedly, but not unkindly.

"You know little Suz?" she asked.

"No, but I've met her father, Beckerman. He's very worried about you," he said, returning his attention to Suzi again.

"You won't come with me now, but you'll be together again very soon." He promised her, and she smiled a little up at him.

The woman removed her arm from around Suzi, and flung them around Malcolm for a second. "Thankyou," she whispered into his ear. "Thankyou."

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Not half a day later, Suzi was cleared by medical. Beckerman took a little longer, as it took a team of doctors to assess the implant that was in his brain. They concluded that while it was unfortunate, they couldn't removed it- it had become fused with his brain, growing tentacles into the organ and to remove it might cause irreversible damage. They believed that now the Aurigans had gone, there would be no threat. It might even regress after time, but having never had a case like this before, they couldn't accurately say.

Beckerman waited at Starfleet headquarters for Malcolm to bring Suzi to him and pondered this. Everyone assumed the Aurigans were gone, but they seemed to have forgotten that there was more than one colony spanning the galaxy. But there really wasn't any way for the implant to be removed, so he would learn to cope with the thought that it was going to be there for the rest of his life. He didn't know how it might affect him one day, and neither did the doctors.

He just prayed that no more Aurigans would ever show up again.

The only bright spot he could see in it was that he might be able to use it as an early warning system, should the worst happen.

His thoughts on this stopped as he heard running steps towards him.

"Daddy!" He looked up to see Suzi running towards him, arms outstretched, smiling widely.

He mirrored her smile, and ran to meet her, sweeping her up into his arms to hold her. He had wondered if he'd ever see her again.

Malcolm came up quietly beside them, eyes looking at them, but seeing something else, and Beckerman looked at him, grinning. He had come home now he had his daughter back.

"I'll never be able to thank you enough."

Malcolm's far away look disappeared, and he smiled back. "You don't need to. But Earth needs it's leaders, and one thing Old Jack was right about, you're a leader. You should do what you can here. That would be thanks enough."

"I will." Was all Beckerman said back.

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The senior officers of the _Enterprise_ sat in the ruins of a conference centre on Earth at Starfleet headquarters. With them were the officers and several representatives of the species who had fought so valiantly against the Aurigans. Not much time had passed, but they had all returned to Earth as one to show a united front to any of the invaders who might still be in the system.

The last of the Aurigan ships had destroyed themselves voluntarily. Phlox had the theory that a hive mind would be unable to survive with so many of the Aurigans dead in the Romulan system.

The remains of the Alliance had limped home victorious to find a gutted Earth, but one where the hope had never been extinguished. People had survived after being abandoned, and had fought for the right to live. Millions had died during the brief Aurigan occupation, but the human race moved on, as they had after the Xindi attack on Earth all that time ago.

Captain Archer was there with his officers, although Phlox hovered by his side. He hadn't wanted the Captain to move from his sickbed, but keeping him there on an event such as this would have been impossible. It was history in the making.

Humans, Andorians, Vulcans, Alpha Centaurians, Denobulans, and Tellarites made a large crowd of hope for the future amidst the decimation of the past.

The Alliance, which one day would become the basis of the Federation.


End file.
